


L'arrangement (The Rewrite) Part 1: Desire

by Kayelcy



Series: L'arrangement [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Infidelity, F/M, First Time, M/M, POV First Person, Post-Pandemic, References to Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayelcy/pseuds/Kayelcy
Summary: The story idea is not my own, it’s based loosely on the 1993 movie Indecent Proposal. Of course I will be deviating quite a bit from the original script.Sanremo Casino Italy.Elio and Marzia are two down on their luck newlyweds betting their savings on a last-ditch effort to save his parent’s home. Oliver is a wealthy entrepreneur in search of pleasurable diversions.After a fateful meeting, Oliver presents them with an offer too good to refuse. One that will save their home but threaten to ruin them completely.
Relationships: Marzia/Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: L'arrangement [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821247
Comments: 92
Kudos: 77





	1. The Predicament

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm dragging out this tired old horse of a story and putting it in the race again. 
> 
> First of all, I want to apologize for so abruptly deleting this fic without warning. I went through some technical(deadbeat computer), as well as health and financial issues, and never thought I would recover to a state where I could try this again.
> 
> For anyone who enjoyed this the first go round, I hope you find this version much improved. As it was my first fic, I was unhappy with a lot of the writing and pacing of the story and a lot of it didn't make sense to me to repost as inferior as it was. So I am retooling it and making it a 3 part series.
> 
> A special note regarding the setting: I set this fic in the near future in Italy.. It is not in any way meant to trivialize or downplay what the citizens of Italy have gone through. Having visited Italy and loved it, I was especially saddened to know this pandemic has affected them so strongly. Its bad where I am as well. I believe we will all pull through this crisis better and stronger.

  
Sanremo Casino Italy.

Chapter 1: The Predicament

  
Elio POV

  
(Crema Italy, Elio’s home – Spring. Mid March - Somewhere in the near future)

  
We had probably been sitting at the table for hours, our laptops on, spreadsheets open, calculators thumping, and the result was still the same. We cut out vacations, gas, groceries, you name it, and it still wasn’t going to be enough to cover what we needed.

  
I had very little income. I’m a concert pianist normally, but the pandemic put the Venetia Chamber Orchestra on hiatus, and I scrambled to get any immediate work I could. I did online video streams, and even managed to do a few piano lessons via live stream distance learning, but it wasn’t consistent. The theater opened again but the pay is as lousy as ever, and I’m seriously considering switching careers.

  
Marzia was still in nursing school. She had missed the brunt of the pandemic, but her hospital she interned at was still recovering staffwise, and her hours were long. I felt guilty that she was providing the main income for us.

  
Mounir proved not to be as great a help as we thought. Marzia and I looked at him hopefully, holding hands but his face was grim.

  
“I think you need to break this to your father as soon as possible. Unless a miracle happens, I think you need to consider putting the property up for sale.”  
“We didn’t come here to ask about selling it. You know Mom. It would kill her to have to leave the place.”

  
“Then you need to come up with the property taxes and the money to fix the roof. How much do you have?”

  
“Four thousand.”

  
“Not enough. What happened to your parent’s savings?”

  
“You remember when dad had a heart attack while we were in the states 2 years ago? Well as you know, he had to have emergency surgery. And the hospital bills took all our retirement savings.”  
“I remember,” Mounir said regretfully. “He looked well when I saw him last. I am sorry to hear things are in such dire straits.”

  
Is that all he could say? Sorry wasn’t exactly going to get us out of this.

  
“What other collateral do you have?” he asked.

  
“We just have the house,” Marzia said. “Can we borrow against it?”

  
“Neither of you are liquid. You’re both renting and you don’t have any real assets. If you borrow and you can’t pay the loan you still lose the estate.”

  
The whole villa is a money suck. No bank will lend to us. The place is crumbling and we don’t have money to fix the broken roof or anything else that’s likely going to break. As much as I loved the place, one of my greatest worries was inheriting it and all the headaches that would come with it.

  
Dad had stopped taking on summer interns, what with the virus and all. The expense was getting to be too much and he had slowed down on his research big time.  
We left Mounir’s office even more defeated. Marzia and I looked at each other and neither of us had a hopeful expression for each other. What a waste of time this was. “I thought papa said he was a talented Economist. A lot of good he did.”

  
“We had better luck on our honeymoon,” Marzia said, as we walked to their car. “Remember when we took 100 euro to the casino in Sanremo and walked away with 800?”

  
“Marzia, our debt is fifty grand and we only have four thousand dollars. What are we going to do in Sanremo? Bet four thousand on black and hope for the best?”

  
“That might be the only we we’re going to come up with fifty thousand in three weeks?”

  
You know, it wasn’t bad idea. What did we have to lose? Marzia seemed to read what I was thinking.

  
“No…no Elio”

  
“Why not, what do we have to lose that we already haven’t.?”

  
“It’s our last money. We don’t have anything else. You’re such a talented musician, but Elio, even your concerts can’t bring in what we need. Not in this market. I’m still in school until June, and not bringing in much either. We can’t risk it.”

  
“But we could,” I said. “You could take a thousand, bet it on red or black. We could put $500 on slots…”

  
“No, Elio,” she said. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Its not bad…and it’s your fault for bringing it up. “  
  
“That 800 we won was dumb luck,” she said. “It can’t happen again.

  
“I think dumb luck is about all we have right now.”

  
“Let’s just go to the villa. Have a nice dinner with our parents and go back to the drawing board. Think of something else less crazy.”

  
But really, there was nothing else. We were down to the wire. We didn’t speak about it any more on the way home, but I was still thinking about it. When I brought the idea up to mom and dad at dinner, they were on Marzia’s side.

  
“Where is Mafalda and Anchise going to go? We can only afford to pay them for a couple more months.” I tried to reason.

  
“It’s too risky, Elio,” papa said, resigned. His eyes no longer held the vitality it had before he became sick. He wasn’t sure he wanted to fight what was inevitably going to happen. And he knew he couldn’t out argue me. “I see you’re going to do what you want regardless.”

I turned to mom but she looked just as resigned. “This house means a lot to me,” Annella said. “It comes down from my family. But in the end it’s just a place.”

“We’ve already spoken to a realtor,” papa said.

  
I started to speak again, but papa held up his hand. “And we’re going to list it on the market.”

  
“So you’re giving up? Just like that?”

  
“We don’t know what else to do, Darling,” Annella replied. She stood and walked over to me “Mafalda will call us for dinner soon.”

  
I tried to speak again but she did that thing where she grazes her fingers in my hair, to soothe me, and to shut me up. It always worked. “Let’s not talk about it anymore for the time being,” she said, and I complied.

  
Dinner was good for the most part and as a promise, finance wasn’t brought up once. Instead, I discussed the upcoming concert I was rehearsing for that would take place in mid summer. We discussed Marzia’s graduation from the University of Padua’s nursing school that would also take place during summer. Marzia and I lived in Padua where she attended college and I played for the Padua and Veneta Chamber Orchestra. Every other weekend we took the 5 hour train to visit my parents here in Crema. And I love what I do for a living. It just doesn’t pay enough, at least right now , it doesn’t.  
We kept the conversation light and jovial, but the current problem loomed over them unsaid. That night I couldn’t sleep. I left Marzia in bed, put on my shoes and decided to roam a bit. I went outside to the pool that wouldn’t be used again for another two months, then to my mother’s garden, and to Anchise’s shed where tomorrow he would be hard at work repairing the worn shed door before he set off to go fishing, or working in the orchard to make sure this year’s fruit harvest turned decent. How old was Anchise, anyway?

  
Mafalda would be making breakfast early tomorrow and teaching me how to cook as well as she did. I was getting better, but I had a way to go. After walking around a bit I went back inside but instead of going back to bed, I went straight to the attic. The dusty old bed was there as always. My friends and I used to play here during winter when it was too cold to go outside or it was raining. Marzia and I had our first kiss up here. We had sex for the first time up here. We still do sometimes.

  
I loved this place. I don’t care how much trouble it was; I didn’t want to lose it. Didn’t want it to be anyone else’s. I was still moping around the attic when I heard footsteps of some one coming up the stairs. I thought it would be mom, but it was Marzia.

  
“I thought I would find you up here,” she said, sounding a bit sleepy. “You still want to do it, don’t you? Sanremo, I mean.”

  
“I know it’s a crazy idea. But really is our last best chance,” I said.

  
“Our last chance to lose what little money we have left.”

  
“Or win. Let’s just go. We won’t tell either of our folks. We can go next weekend,”

  
“Elio---”

  
“Please. I promised you I’d give you everything and I’ve failed so far. Give me a chance to make it up to you.” I drew Marzia into my arms and kissed her softly.

  
“Do you think we can do this?” she asked, resting her head on my chest.

  
“I don’t think we have any other options. You don’t have a rich uncle you haven’t told me about, do you?”

  
Marzia jabbed him lightly. “I’m serious, what if we lose?”

  
“What if? Same outcome either way.” I reasoned.

  
“Then let’s go,” Marzia said. “We can leave tomorrow instead of heading back to Padua.”

  
“Ok, but let’s not tell my parents just yet. If we come up with the money in Sanremo, I want it to be a surprise.” I suggested.

  
“Alright. And if we lose, well…they never have to know.”

  
I paced a bit, not wanting to go back down just yet. I was feeling a bit nostalgic. “Let’s spend the rest of the night up here,” I suggested.

  
“Like we used to sneak here back in the day,” she laughed.

  
We plopped on the bed holding each other and remembering. “We weren’t really sneaking. Everyone knew what we were up to.”

  
Marzia chuckled softly, a yawn breaking through her laugh. After a few moments of silence, her breathing evened and I could tell she was finally asleep. I couldn’t drift off, myself, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It excited me a bit in a reckless way with the idea that we could lose everything. Or win.

* * *

(Casino Sanremo- Saturday afternoon in mid March)

  
We said goodbye to my parents after breakfast, drove from Crema to Sanremo straight away and installed ourselves at the Pansione Satachiara, which was cheap but reasonably decent. We had a light lunch and decided not to waste time, and headed straight to the casino.

  
The casino wasn’t the only thing I was interested in. The Sanremo Symphony was performing that afternoon for the first time since the economy opened back up. I knew some of the musicians from conservatory who had gotten positions there after graduation. Marzia and I decided to stop in before we began gambling and I wasn’t in a particular hurry to start losing money just yet.  
And I wanted to see Luz and Paulo. They were some of our friends that played at the orchestra here. We met at conservatory and they both got positions here when we graduated.

  
Luz looked relieved when she saw us and made a bee line for me. Said it must be fate and something about their lead pianist’s wife was giving birth and had to leave for the week and could I fill in that night.  
The director agreed so instead of blowing four grand gambling, I made twenty five hundred playing Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy to a moderate responsibly distanced audience.  
Instead of gambling, we left decided to celebrate with our friends by along the Corso Matteoti, a street lined with restaurants and high-end shops. It was still early, so Lon decided to treat us to dinner at Collone da Slivio Battistoni. Luz and Paulo joined us and we made it a date. Marzia and I had a running bet as to when they would finally hook up.

  
Normally Collone would be packed with customers, but only about a third of the regular amount of tables were placed. There weren’t any handheld menus, but there was a touch screen where we could place our orders electronically without a server coming to the table.

  
“I heard about what happened to your dad,” Paulo said. “How is he doing?”

  
“He’s a lot better, really,” I said.

  
“It’s a shame,” Luz said, shaking her head. “If it had happened here instead of America, there wouldn’t be a money problem at all.”

  
“So what are you going to do now?” Paulo asked. “Musicians arent getting many breaks these days.”

  
“That’s why were here. We’re going to try our luck at craps,” Marzia sighed. “It’s just that bad.” Something suddenly had caught Marzia’s attention. “Look at him,” she nodded to a table near the back of the restaurant. “I bet he doesn’t have a single problem with money. Or anything else.”

  
“God… ,” Luz said, looking in the same direction. “Not knocking present company, but he is hot…”  
Paulo and I looked at each other and shook our heads simultaneously.

  
“Don’t you agree, Elio?” Luz scooted towards me. “Just look a bit to the left, three tables ahead. He’s practically right in front of you.” I switched around to get a quick look. The sooner I did the sooner we could switch to a different subject.

  
He’s tall, maybe late twenties, early thirties. He’s wearing an expensive dark navy suit. Tom Ford, I believe. I wasn’t close enough to be certain. He was looking down at first so I couldn’t see his face. But when he finally looked up and smiled…..

  
He was turned towards his date, a tall dark haired woman, glamorous type, pretty enough. Probably a model. He suddenly laughed at something she said and that was what caught me. I couldn’t stop staring; he was handsome as fuck. Dark blonde, his face stubbled with the beginnings of a beard growing in. The blue in his suit flattered his tanned skin in the most amazing way. I tugged at my collar suddenly feeling hot. He was just a man….like me, really. Why was my body reacting this way? He looked my way suddenly, and I quickly looked down, pretending to be interested in my drink. And this all happened in less than five seconds.

  
“Yeah, I guess I can see what you mean,” I shrugged.

  
Through the rest of dinner, I pretended to be interested in what everybody was saying but every once in a while I would steal a glance over at his table. He would be taking a bite of something or sipping on a drink. A bit later he was having a smoke and I could have watched all day. I’ve never been able to look that cool smoking.

  
A short while later they began to leave, as they passed near our table, I surprised at how tall he was. Like a Greek statue, almost. I was relieved to see he didn’t glance our way once when he left with his date. Marzia broke me out of my spell.

  
“I know how you like shopping, Elio. Let’s go on the plaza and we can wish shop.”

  
“How about you guys?” I offered.

  
“No thanks,” Paulo said. “You two have a good time. We have an early day tomorrow.”

  
After a few moments we’re walking past the shops, enjoying each other’s company and I by that time I had forgotten dinner completely. Marzia spotted a strapless red chiffon dress by Rasario in one of the windows. The skirt was flowy, and the bodice fit close to the body in the way that would flatter nicely.  
“Try it on for me, I want to see how you look in it.” Even if I can’t afford to buy it. Red was the color I like her in most.

  
“This might take a minute, Elio. Do you want to wait?”

  
“I’ll look around next door for a while. Don’t take it off before I come back.” I gave her a kiss and left, my mind already on Thom Browne next door.

  
I spotted a black bias cut suit I liked immediately near the middle of the store displayed in glass when I walked in. I got near it and wanted it immediately. It would look so cool on me. The fabric looked like heaven. A guy about my age, tall and thin like me walked over; looked only half interested. He smoothed back his thin hair and sized up my department store button down and slacks and knew instantly what he was dealing with.

  
“Something I can interest you in? There’s not any discounts in here but our website has some lovely offers,” he drawled. I had a sudden urge to punch him.

  
“Just looking, thanks,” I smiled instead.  
“Well, If an application is what you’re looking for, the manager won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

  
“I have a job, thanks,” I said in the nicest voice possible. “Why don’t you do yours,” I mumbled the last part.

  
His face heated up and he was about to say something else when another customer he was helping caught his attention and he forgot all about me. Good riddance…asshole.

  
I was trying to piece together the shoes, the cufflinks that would go with the suit. This would be perfect for a performance I had coming up in a few weeks. A voice broke me out of my fantasy. American. It was deep, New England, maybe. The kind I imagined on a football player or a wrestler. An accent I hear often enough but for some reason, this one made me want to know where it came from and who it belonged to.

  
I looked near the back and the little snot sales clerk was with him fawning all over him. Oh shit…it was the guy from the restaurant! The one I’d drooled over for a solid ten minutes. I thought I would never see him again.

  
I pretended to still be interested in the suit I was looking at but I was staring again. He was so damned tall. Taller than me, and I wasn’t a short guy. I could see he was fit even through his suit. I was right, it was Tom Ford.

  
He nonchalantly handed, or rather threw a couple of suits at the clerk casually giving instructions on what he wanted tailored and walked off towards the back. He had an arrogant air about him that put me off just a bit but it didn’t stop me from staring. The clerk gathered up the suits he tossed at him.

  
“I need them ready by Thursday.” I heard him call. “Do you think you can do that for me?”

  
“Yes, Mr. Zelinger. Everything will be just as you want it. Just ask and it’s yours.”

  
The clerk scuttled past me, not and didn’t seem to care if I existed. I left the suit and walked over to a glass case with various cufflinks and other accessories but since I couldn’t afford those either, nothing was of interest anymore. And it was time to get back to Marzia.

  
I paused at the glass case, a warm sensation coming over me. I glanced to my right and suddenly he was there. Staring at me. I looked back at the case pretending to be interested in what was inside. I couldn’t stand it after a moment and looked at him for real this time. He looked even better up close. He was grinning at me. His eyes were blue and gorgeous. I felt torn all of a sudden. I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my life. He seemed amused at how uncomfortable he was making me.

  
“Did you like what you saw?” he asked suddenly.

  
God, that voice again. I pretended I didn’t understand him. “Mi scusi. Cosa intendi? I shook my head, pointing a finger at my ear, and pretending to be confused.

  
“I don’t think so,” he chuckled. Even his laugh was sexy. “I can hear your accent. Try again.”

  
Damn. “Sorry. I…what did you mean?” I decided to switch to perfect New York accented English, silly to pretend now.  
“I mean at the restaurant.”

  
I couldn’t hold my surprise. He knew I was watching him! “Look, man, I didn’t mean to stare. My friends told me to look, and---” I hated how I sounded like a kid.  
“It’s alright. I get that a lot here.”

  
“You knew I speak English.”

  
“Well, I know for sure now. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

  
And I wasn’t going to. “Well…listen...you know… I-I should leave. I have someone waiting for me.”

  
“Why don’t you try it on for me before you go. The cut suits you, and I’d like to see you in it.” He nodded to the suit I’d been looking at earlier.

  
“Oh,,, nah I couldn’t. I can’t afford it, really. Not ever.”

  
“Really? Never say never,” he shrugged. He stepped a bit closer. “What’s your name?,” he asked softly. He smelled so good.

  
“Mr. Zelinger!” the clerk from earlier was running up again and his face turned instantly from sexy to mildly annoyed. “I have everything arranged. I just need to finalize where you need it picked up.”  
Mr. Zelinger. What was his first name, then?

  
The woman he was with at the restaurant stormed in a moment later, hair swinging flawlessly, legs that wouldn’t quit and I wanted to thank her for answering my question for me.

  
“Oliver!” she screeched. “You told me you would buy those Louboutins for me! And now you keep me waiting.”

  
“I’m certain we’ll continue this another time and place,” he said, walking away.

  
Oliver. The name rolled off my tongue silently. And now his girl had half his attention. And the clerk had the other half. And then they were leaving. And I was forgotten. Just as well. I had to, needed to leave also.

  
When I stepped outside, Oliver was nowhere to be seen. I hurried to get back to Marzia and was glad I did when I saw her. She looked breathtaking. She spun around for me and I took her in fully.

  
“It’s too bad we can’t afford it. The cost alone is half of what we’re worth right now.”

  
“Maybe tomorrow we can win enough for me to buy it for you,” I suggested.

  
“Did you find anything?” she asked?

  
I shook his head and decided not to tell her about Oliver.

  
“Wow,” she said, spinning around again in the red chiffon “I really like this…”

  
“Let’s get out of here,” I whispered into her ear. “I can imagine taking it off of you,”

  
We left, but I was so conflicted right now. What I was feeling, I thought it was something I felt a long time ago when I was still figuring myself out. Something I thought died as my brain figured itself out and I grew up and out of adolescent confusion about my sexuality. But there it was back stronger than ever. This time I didn’t think I could stamp it out so easily.

  
For now I would let this desire for Marzia, the kind I wanted to show, that was pure and right, take over. And not think of Oliver. And he would never know my name. For the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if I'm on the right track! Comments welcome! Stay safe and healthy.


	2. Supposition and Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up. Will Elio be able to resist?

Elio POV

  
When we finally got back to our room we had just enough energy for a quickie. Afterwards I was finding it hard to go to sleep even though I was dead tired from this evening. After the shops, we had gone dancing and maybe a bit more drinking than we intended. Marzia was fast asleep but I was still a bit wired. And curious. I unpacked my tablet, move to a sitting chair where I wouldn’t wake up my wife, and began my research.

  
I told myself it was mild curiosity, nothing else. I googled Oliver’s name not expecting to find more than a few obscure articles, but the first came thing that came up was his Wikipedia article.

  
Oliver Zelinger. Birthdate, August 28th 1990. He was thirty. Not too old at all. 

  
Marital status, separated pending divorce. 

  
Children: one son aged almost two years. Okay… well, he ‘was’ married.

  
Net worth 1.9 billion in dollars. What the actual…..

  
I skimmed briefly over his occupation. Entrepreneur, venture capitalist…. antiques? Now that was a bit more interesting. There were several links to articles he was in, pictures of him at different events, looking great in all of them. I lingered on the ones where he was smiling in them. Soft looking mouth. Beautiful white teeth, rather sharp canines. Before I realized it, I imagined them grazing my neck, and the thought went straight to my groin. 

  
I brought my hand down to soothe the ache but the glint of my wedding band stopped me cold. I slammed the tablet closed and threw it face down, suddenly angry with myself. I didn’t want to think this way. I couldn’t deny, I was attracted to him. No, it wasn’t his money, if he had 1.9 dollars to his name, my body wouldn’t have reacted any differently. 

  
But I’m not ready to believe this is the way I felt. Not that anything was wrong with being attracted to him. But if I was, then what if it got to the point I wanted to do more than think about it?

  
I put the thought out of my head, besides online and in my dreams were the only place I’d ever see him again. I went back to bed to try and sleep. 

(Casino Sanremo – the next day)

  
“Are you sure about this Elio?” Marzia asked, a bit nervous. “This is our last day, and our last chance.

  
This was now or never. It’s what we came out here for. To lose all of our money. I looked around, and in addition to the addicts glued to the responsibly distanced slot machine, an equal number of people seemed to be headed for a roped off area that blocked off the Fireplace room. We were to learn shortly that the bets in that room ran ten thousand euro at minimum. The high rollers in that room got courtesy limos and their own private floor. I felt a sudden energy coming from there and I wanted to check it out. Even if I was too broke to participate.

  
When we got to the room, most of the action was at one table close to the back. The table was visible but roped off so those who weren’t in the game had no access to it.

  
“I bet what they spend a night could cover the whole amount were looking for,” Marzia mused.

  
I led us closer to the ropes so we could see further in. The few patrons that were actually allowed in the room were dressed in expensive formal clothing that made me feel like a scrub in my jeans and pullover. Everyone’s attention seemed to be focused on one gentleman in the center seeming to have incredibly good luck. In front of him, his chips are piled high.   
  
The gentleman on a roll is an older man, maybe late fifties, obviously one of the high spender. Each chip he was betting was worth ten thousand. He bet ten suddenly and won his hand. Marzia and I exchanged a look of disbelief.

  
Another man up beside the winning gentleman, and my heart skipped a beat. Oliver. This time he’s dressed in a black Armani satin trim tuxedo that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. His hair was slicked back, his blond highlights glittering. As if he could almost sense I was there he looked past the room to the roped area, and right at me.

  
“Let’s go,” I grabbed Marzia’s arm. 

  
“No, wait…. Didn’t we see him at the restaurant last night? 

  
“Maybe,” I shrugged, pretending not to care. “You and Luz were the ones interested.”

  
“But look at the amount he’s betting!”

  
I looked in shock as Oliver made a bet of 25 chips. But I shouldn’t have been. Especially now that I have an idea what he’s worth. I watched one of his large beautiful hands picks up the dice, and for a second didn’t notice two hostesses had been speaking to us. 

  
“Sir…” one of them smiled. She waved a gloved hand towards the entrance to the Fireroom.

  
“Mr. Zelinger says he would like to see you both,” she said, smiling prettily. She waves her hand in the direction of Oliver’s table.

  
“No……” Elio says. Something about his made me feel strange. Strange in a way that made me recall a side to myself I wanted to forget. “Tell him I’m sorry. We cant…”

  
“Elio… come on,” Marzia grabbed my hand and the second hostess walked forward to lead us to the table. People were watching us now, in our scrubby jeans and all. When we reached the table, Oliver gestured us over. Mercifully he didn’t mention in front of Marzia that we’d met before. His eyes were fixed on her.

  
“If you don’t mind, sir I’d like to borrow your friend here for luck,” he asked me.

  
“Wife,” I replied back hoping I sounded authoritative. Oliver raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued, but not a bit put off or intimidated.

  
“I stand corrected,” he said quickly, then turned back to Marzia. ”You’re very beautiful……” 

“Marzia,” she said shyly finishing for him.

  
“Marzia. Your husband is a lucky man. I was wondering if you would make the roll for me. I’m down a hundred this evening and I’m getting a lucky vibe from you.”

  
He passed her the dice and she turned to me questioningly. I shrugged, like I was ok with it.

  
“I’d be glad to,” she squealed. She turned to the table, excited and started to roll the dice. Oliver stopped her suddenly.

  
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he said.

  
Her confused look told him she didn’t know what he was talking about. Oliver took her hand, and then gestured me over.

  
“Blow on them,” he told me. “I need both your luck tonight.”

Marzia held the dice out to me and I took her hand in mine and brought the dice close to me. I brought my lips to her hand, my eyes fixed on Oliver the whole time. We stared at each other and I blew on the dice, making a show of curling my mouth into a O. Marzia rolled.

  
The sound of the crowd broke us from our spell. Marzia had rolled a seven and the bet was won.

  
“Congratulations, sir,” the dealer said, pushing the chips toward Oliver. “The lady has brought you luck.”

  
“Have it credited to my casino account,” he said. He turned back to Marzia. “I’d like to extend my gratitude to you both.” He extended his hand to me.

  
“Oliver Zelinger.” I took his large hand and shook it as firmly as I could.

“Elio,” I finally gave my name. 

  
“How long are you going to be in Sanremo?”

  
“Tomorrow is our last day,” Elio said. “We really should get back to what we were doing.”

  
“Don’t worry about gambling anymore tonight. Stay a couple days longer. As my guests. I’ll settle wherever you’re staying now, and you can stay here. Just until Monday if you really have to leave soon.”

Before we could answer, a porter appeared and handed us two gold key cards. “Consider it as thanks for tonight’s win.”

  
“Th- Thank you,” I said, truly appreciating it.

  
“My pleasure,” he said, walking away, and gifting me with an excellent view from behind as well. Was there any part of him that I didn’t think was perfect.

The room at the Royal was a beautiful exclusive suite with a breathtaking view of the sea. We took pictures of it to show our parents and friends later. It had a private room and jetted tub. On the table was a large gift basket and a bottle of wine. All complementary. Robes pajamas and toiletries had been sent up for us for the night also.

  
“What have we gotten into,” Marzia asked, and we both laughed together. 

  
After a couple of glasses of wine, we jumped on the bed half lightheaded with alcohol. Our laughter turned in to passionate kisses and before long, we were making love in the large king bed. The rest of the night found us ordering a late dinner and falling asleep on an old movie.

  
I almost felt guilty. This felt like a second honeymoon and even if we came away with nothing, which seemed more likely by the minute, I was glad we came. 

  
Morning came and our belongings from the other hotel we’d been staying at arrived. After a morning shower, we were having breakfast in our robes when another delivery arrived. Two hostesses came in with two dress bags accompanied by two small black velvet pouches.

  
“Complements of Mr. Zelinger. He requests your presence tonight at the Villa Noseda restaurant.” They hung the dress bags outside the linen closet, placed the pouches on the table and left.  
Marzia picked at her eggs and fruit, eyeing the bags every few seconds. We had been pretending not to notice them, but our curiosity was taking over.

  
“Do you want to see what it is,” she asked. “We don’t have to go; we can just see what they look like.”

  
“I don’t want to know. For some reason I don’t trust this somehow.” I didn’t trust me. I didn’t trust because of the fact that I was excited I was going to see him again.

  
Marzia rose to go to the bags “I’ll open yours for you then you won’t have to feel guilty about them.”

  
She opened the dress bag first and squealed with delight as she pulled out a long red chiffon dress. The one she’d tried on the other night.

  
“Elio….how do you think he knew?!”

  
“I don’t really know,” I said warily. I wonder if he saw Marzia and me together somehow the other night. I walked over to open my own dress bag. I thought he would find the Thom Brown I’d been eyeing that night but it was a different suit instead. Berluti. Simple, all black with a black silk dress shirt underneath and black dress shoes to match. The pouches I was to discover, carried various rings, necklaces, wrist chains, cufflinks….

  
“Let’s send this stuff back,” I said. “I think we’re wasting time when we should be doing what we came for.”

  
I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t trust my feelings. I didn’t want to know what would happen if I saw Oliver again. And I wanted to be good for Marzia.   
  
“Why not? We may find more luck with him than at the casino wasting our money on slots,” Marzia said. She smiled slyly, holding the red dress to her body.   
  
“And I know you want to see me in this.”  
I flashed her a smile, but I still had the sinking feeling this was going to lead to something wrong. Or rather I was bound to do something wrong. Especially when I felt this strong of an attraction when I was committed to someone else.

  
“It’s just… I don’t know. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before, but I looked him up online earlier. This guy is a billionaire. What would he have to talk to us about?”

  
“All the more reason, Elio. We can tell us our situation and see if he can give us a loan,” she offered. “After all, we did win him a quarter million last night.”  
I didn’t mention we’d already met. She looked at me and I could tell she would be disappointed if I said no to dinner. So I didn’t.

  
Around five in the evening, a limo came to pick us up at the Royal. A stylist had come to do Marzia’s hair earlier which fell in a cascade of dark waves on the right and pinned back on the left side with a beautiful studded clip. A diamond choker adorned her neck.

  
“You look beautiful,” I said breathlessly, kissing her. She really did look great.  
Oliver had chosen my outfit well. The suit was close fitting but flattering to my skin and bones frame. I’d always liked black: it made my pasty skin look better somehow. I even managed to tame my hair into some semblance of a shape.  
I felt like I was out of my league with her looking so good, but people were watching us, especially older people, with appreciation as we headed out to the limo.

  
The drive to the Villa Noseda was short but pleasant. The chauffer offered us drinks on the way and the driver regaled them with stories of their host.

  
An American, he said. It seems Mr. Zelinger was a venture capitalist, an investor, procurer of fine art and artifacts. Things I already knew.  
I had also read previously that he came from an old moneyed family from Vermont. His father was a trust fund child and philanthropist. His mother, a socialite, was one of the most fashionable women in Montpelier society. When he came of age, he refused his inheritance and trust fund, and grew his fortune on his own.

  
“He’s not married?” Marzia asked.

  
“Nearly divorced.” the chauffer said.   
  
“Girlfriend?” she pried again.

  
“Hard to say. I’d prefer to let Mr. Zelinger elaborate on that.”

  
We were pulling up to the restaurant now and the limo was slowed. As we reached the restaurant entrance, Oliver had come out personally to greet us.

  
He looked like a god in the moonlight as he approached. He was wearing a black velvet Armani dinner jacket, tailored perfectly. He flashed that smile I liked so much, and I was jealous all of a sudden. Where did all the confidence come from? I pulled myself together and prayed I was doing a good job keeping my thirst at bay.

  
He took my hand first, shaking it firmly. He kissed Marzia’s cheek.   
  
“I’m glad you decided to come,” he said. His voice sounded genuinely warm. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Come in and have a drink with me.”

(Villa Noseda – Monday Night- Mid March)

  
We were led to the back of the restaurant to a small area reserved for small dinner parties. A waiter brought in a cart tray filled with appetizers and sat them on a circular dining table.   
  
“Sit down and get comfortable,” Oliver offered after we’d both been standing there longer than normal.

  
“And what do you do for a living, Elio?” he asked after we were seated.

  
“I’m a pianist,” I said.

  
“Your hands… I might have known. The baroque era is my favorite. Which is your favorite from that era? Scarlatti…Couperan?”

  
“Bach, actually” I replied. Something told me his knowledge of music ran pretty deep. But more importantly, I really needed .to stop looking at his eyes.

  
“Elio’s a composer,” Marzia said proudly.  
“A composer? Really?”

  
“Well, I’m not really...but I want to be. I’ve written some things.”

  
“Doesn’t that make you a composer, then?”

  
“Well I haven’t published anything, so no.”

  
“Don’t count yourself out.” he turned to Marzia. “And what about you?”

  
“I’m studying to be a nurse. I graduate this May.”

  
“My mother was a nurse at one time,” he smiled. “It’s a great profession, especially these days.”

  
He turned back to me. “You don’t seem to have an accent,” Oliver mused.

  
“Well growing up we traveled back and forth from Italy to New York, …France. But home is here.”

  
“Are your parents Italian?”

  
“My mother is. My father is a professor at NYU in the states. He used to host a graduate student when we spent our summers in Crema.”

  
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “What did he teach?”

  
“Archaeology. He even wrote a couple of books on some of his excavations. He’s also teaches classical languages. Professor Perlman’s Etymology of Ancient Greek Language.”

  
“It’s a small world.” Oliver said, pleased. “I met Professor Perlman in my junior year at Columbia. I visited NYU where he was hosting a seminar. I’m sure you’re proud to have him as your father.”

  
“I am,” But it was too sad to think about him right now.

  
The conversation remained light until the entrées came. Marzia and I looked at each other and decided silently that the conversation should turn to business.  
“I’m glad you invited us here,” Marzia began. “We could really use your advice.”

  
“About what?”   
  
“My parents’ house is going on the market. We can’t afford the upkeep. And no bank will give us a loan.” I began, wondering if I was going to need an elevator speech.

  
“Do you have collateral?” he asked.

  
“Just the house,” Marzia said. “That’s why we’re here.

  
“Unless we win enough or a rich uncle dies somewhere and leaves us a fortune, we’re kind of stuck.”

  
“We were told you built your fortune from nothing,” Marzia said. “How did you do it with no assets to speak of?”

  
“Not exactly nothing. I was good at poker and played a lot in college. Tournaments mostly, and I was pretty good at it. When I’d won enough seed money a friend of mine hit me up on a real estate property. We invested, I made my first million and it was uphill from there.”

  
“It was that simple?” I didn’t believe it.

  
“It was. I didn’t sell myself short. I saw opportunities and I sold them to other people. One can make money in any profession if you know how.”

  
“Are you content,” Marzia asked. “Have you achieved all you want?”

  
Oliver thought for a bit “I don’t know. There aren’t many that can say they have.”

  
“I can,” Marzia said, looking at me.   
  
“There are limits to what you can buy with money,” I said.

  
“I beg to differ. Such as?” He raised a perfect eyebrow seeming to be mildly interested.

  
“You can’t buy people,” Marzia replied.

  
“I don’t agree. I buy them all the time.”

  
“She really means also you can’t buy

love,” I cut in.   
  
“Maybe not….” Oliver murmured, thinking to himself. He turned to me. “That’s a challenge I’ve never considered taking on before.”   
  
“It’s also an impossible one,” I chimed in.

  
“Then I have a proposal for you.” He turned to Marzia. “I’d like to offer a million euro. For one night with me.”  
I was taken by surprise and Marzia’s jovial mood quickly faded. One night with him. He said it like it was a privilege or a gift he was offering.

  
“Are you kidding me?” I could almost feel the anger rising in my throat. Was he really propositioning my wife? Oliver seemed unfazed.

  
“Suppose I’m not kidding,” he said, his eyes still fixed on Marzia. His question was directed at her. “What would you say, then?”

  
“She’d tell you to go to fuck yourself,” I said. And meant it. I take back what I thought of him earlier. He wasn’t any kind of mythical god, he was the devil incarnate.

  
“I didn’t hear it from her,” Oliver insisted.  
“Then I’d tell you to go fuck yourself,” Marzia repeated.

  
“You say that now because I’m speaking ‘what ifs’. But what if I were to actually make it a genuine offer?”

  
Oliver rose from his seat to walk directly behind Marzia. He looked straight at me.  
“What would you say about it, then?”  
I shifted in his seat uneasily and Marzia pleaded with her eyes for me to give her an answer. Was Oliver really asking to buy my wife? Could I really sell my wife for a million euro?   
  
“I’m just making an example of what money can and cannot buy. It buys me one night. But it can buy you your parent’s home again and a measure of security for your future.”

  
Marzia and I looked at each other. We both were secretly agonizing that neither one of us could find it in ourselves to protest.

  
Oliver broke the silence after a moment “Don’t answer me right away,” he said. “I want you to think about this seriously.”  
“No.. were positive the answer is no,” I said, shaking my head.

  
Marzia nodded silently then forced herself to smile back at me. “He’s right. It’s a flattering offer. But no.”

  
“Then I have my answer. I guess there are things money can’t buy.,” Oliver said quickly, seemingly satisfied. “It’s been an interesting, if not pleasant evening,” Oliver continued. “I’d like to end it on a high note.”   
  
Oliver turned towards Marzia. “I have to leave soon and it’s getting late. Elio, may I have one last dance with your wife?”

  
I looked at Marzia and she seemed hesitant, unsure. I finally nodded hesitantly. I guess I was ok since the offer after all was now off the table. What harm could there be in a dance?

  
Once he and Marzia move into the main room, I let out a deep sigh. The thick bile of jealousy welled up in the pit of my stomach. So what the hell was with all the flirting ‘we’d’ been doing the past few days. At the store, in the casino hall… what the fuck? I thought it was me he was into. All along he wanted my wife. And in front of all that I just threw away my parent’s home and a small fortune on principle.   
  
I couldn’t help but stare past the door to see them dancing together. Now I hated even more, the feelings he’d stirred in me. I now knew they were false and one sided. Now I was looking at Marzia dancing in his arms. I was sure we made the right decision.

  
But what was wrong now? In the middle of dancing, Marzia suddenly broke away from Oliver. She stepped past him, her face obviously upset, and hurried quickly towards me. When I caught her in my arms, I noticed her face had turned completely white.

  
“What is it! What the hell did he say to you!”   
  
“Elio….. he.. I think I misunderstood….He… his offer is serious.”

  
“Yeah, I kind of knew that,” 

  
“No…you don’t know, Elio. He doesn’t want me. The offer was for a night with you.”

  
For a moment, we stared at each other.   
“Are you sure you heard right?” I said finally.

  
“We have until tomorrow to decide.”  
I looked over and saw Oliver talking to the maître d’. Then he was walking away, not in our direction, but I think he was leaving.

  
The maître d’ came to us then, to say our limo had arrived to take us back to the hotel.   
  
On the ride back we promised we wouldn’t think about it. It seemed twice as long going back.   
  
When we finally made it back to the royal, the receptionist at the front desk of their hotel handed us a business card Oliver had left for us.

  
We had already said no. But the offer still lay on the table for the taking.

As I expected, neither of us could sleep that night and we both ended up staring at the grand ceiling in our suite.

  
“It’s so incredible. Why me?”

  
“I should have known. The way he was looking at you,” Marzia said simply.   
  
“I thought he meant you.” I said, and I hated how excited I felt now that I knew that it wasn’t. “What do you think we should do now?”   
  
“I don’t know. A million euro…. I just don’t know.”

  
“Because if you decide, then I won’t. You have to say it.”

  
“And if I say no…will you hate me?” she said. I sat up on one elbow and turned to her.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“Let’s suppose I say no,” she continued. “And we take what money we have and go home, or gamble it away, it doesn’t matter. Then we return and your parents lose their home.”

  
“I still won’t do it if you say. I still –”

  
“And they have to sell the villa,” she continued. “And you hate me afterwards. Because I was selfish. Because I decided not to help us when we had a chance.”  
I didn’t have a rebuttal because he knew she might be right.

  
“And because I’m the odd one out. It’s not my family that’s in dire straits. It not my parents I’m trying to help. I’m just your wife.”

  
“You don’t think that makes you my family?”   
  
Marzia didn’t answer that question, but she just continued her assertions. “We could do it,” she said. “Go back home broke with our principles intact and try to work something out.”

  
“But you are thinking about the money,”

And I’m thinking about the experience, which is something entirely different from money.

  
“Do you want to do it, Elio? Or are you just saying no for me?”

  
“What makes you think I want to?” Did she know?

  
“I’m not saying you want to. I’m just saying…. It could be worse. He’s very handsome. And---we’re very poor…."   
  
“You really don’t care about me having sex with Oliver?

  
“That sounded bad, didn’t it? I take it back.”   
  
And here was my cue. “Look, Marzia, all I’ve ever wanted to do was to take care of you. I feel so guilty that you practically supported us when I was out of work. And now, I have a chance where I can. It won’t really be me. It’s just my body.”  
“Is it really that simple? This is just about the money for you too” she asked.

  
“It is. You’re the only girl I’ve ever been with and after this is over, you’ll still be the only girl. It’s just business,” I said.   
I could ignore the attraction. I could control what my body felt. I would be like a transaction which is not a turn on at all. I might not even like it which would make facing my wife afterwards that much easier.   
  
“When it’s over it’ll be like it never happened. Because nothing that means anything will happen.”

  
“Do you mean you’re ok with it?” Marzia asked.

  
“You be the first to say what we’ll decide. If you don’t want me to, I won’t. And I promise you I won’t blame you for whatever happens after.”  
It seemed like almost an eternity before she answered. “Then…then do it,” she said. “And promise me you’ll come back to me like nothing ever happened.”

  
“Because it won’t have.” I promised. I’m sure of it. You’re a damned coward, Elio, I thought. Because if I said yes, then it’s on me, but if she says yes, then who could we blame for the aftermath? The logic was so wrong…but…..

  
I held her close for the rest of the night, but we still couldn’t get back to sleep. I thought of Oliver and the nagging feeling from before begun to take hold. In truth, I was curious about him, wildly so. A sick feeling of guilt came over me as I held Marzia. It wasn’t just about the money. It wasn’t about money at all if I’m honest. I wanted to know what it would be like to sleep with a man. With this man. To satisfy my curiosity with no strings, no catch. It’s just physical, this attraction. It won’t ruin us. Something to get out of my system, then move on, like nothing ever happened.   
  
I had only needed Marzia’s consent. And now I had it.

  
Elio POV

  
(Tuesday late afternoon– Royal Hotel – mid March)

  
I waited for signs all morning that she wanted to call it off. If she would have just said no…….

  
I know why I wasn’t saying anything, I’m not proud of it. But why didn’t she? When the afternoon came and it was time to meet with Oliver, I knew she wouldn’t.

  
Even still, I kept waiting for her cue right up until a hostess came for us and told us everything was ready in the conference room. I waited as we walked there.

  
“I wonder how long he plans to keep you.,” was all she said. “We hadn’t planned on staying this long.”

  
“We can leave tomorrow when this is over,” I said. “You don’t have to be back at your clinical until next week.”

  
We were near the back of the room at the hotel lobby where we agreed to meet Oliver and by this time, I knew she wasn’t going to stop this.

  
A hostess led us in, and there was one other gentleman with Oliver, no one else. Oliver was seated by him, and they seemed to be in deep discussion. The conference room was small, and the table was small and round with two other chairs meant for us. He looked up, not seeming a bit surprised to see us as if he’d anticipated we were going to accept his offer.

  
“Sit anywhere you like,” Oliver said absently to us, still looking over the pages with his partner.

  
Today he was dressed the most casual we had ever seen him, but still gorgeous. He was wearing a close-fitting blue sweater with a light cream button down shirt underneath. Close-fitting dark khakis encased his long legs, and I tried not to stare at them.   
  
He finally turned to us, smiling pleasantly. For Marzia’s sake, I tried not to melt.

  
“I’m glad you decided to agree to this,” he said. He gestured to the gentleman next to him. “Don’t mind Felice, he’s just here as a witness only.” Felice handed us copies of the documents they’d been reading.   
  
The contract was only two pages; the first page listed the parties and the effective date. It read that all three of us agree to the terms. Then after that, some confidentiality stuff. No worries there. And something about the contract being binding. Sure, whatever. We both had to agree to immediate disclose of our medical histories, and that it was accurate under penalty of suit. Reasonable. And that no permanent physical harm would come to either party. Wouldn’t want that.

  
“What do you mean by a verification clause.” I asked.

  
“It means if nothing happens then the agreement is null and void.”

  
Then basically the contract would be null and void if 1.) Either of us changed our minds 2.) The ‘act’ was not completed. 3.) Any blemishes were found on my medical records. Not a problem.

  
“So if you can’t get it up, it’s still void?” I replied, looking at Marzia with a grin.

  
“Elio!” She pretended to scold, but she was obviously relieved that we could joke about it, that I was making her smile. That we were still ok.

  
“I don’t think either of us will have a problem with performance,” Oliver said with a small smile. His large eyes were half hooded as he looked at me, and I tried in vain to calm the blush that was coming to my face.

  
“But,” Oliver continued, signing his copy of the contract, and sliding it over to Felice. He signed and slid the papers to us without a word.   
  
”As for my end of the deal, a million euro will be deposited in your names in the casino bank tomorrow morning. That is, if….”

  
“It looks like you covered all the bases.” I murmured.

  
Marzia and I exchanged looks. We stared at the pens laying in front of us. Marzia reached for hers first and signed. I took that as confirmation and signed mine as well. I took her hand and squeezed it.

  
“You’ve both made the right choice, “ Oliver said. He gestured with his hands that they should rise. Felice took the signed documents, quickly put them in a folder and walked out. We all stood, and suddenly two young people, a young man and woman, attractive, sharply dressed entered the room. Hotel staff.

  
Oliver gestured to Marzia. “This young woman is my very special guest,” he said to them. “Anything she wants today, make sure she gets it.” He turned to us both. “You can go now,” he dismissed.  
We both turned to go, and we were walking out when I felt Oliver’s large hand on my upper arm.   
  
“Not you,” he said, close to my ear.  
Marzia and I look at each other and I gave her a reassuring smile.

“Tomorrow. Before you know it.”

  
She nodded, and was looking away from me so I couldn’t see what she might have been thinking.

  
When Oliver and I were finally alone, I turned away knocking his hand from my arm. I walked over to the conference chairs.

  
“What now? Do we get naked, then? Should we do it right here?” I said, rapping my knuckle on conference table.

  
“Tempting, but I don’t think this is the best place,” Oliver laughed.

  
“You know, this contract thing doesn’t mean you own me.”

  
“Actually, it does. Just until tomorrow, that is. But who knows, by then you might want it that way on a more permanent basis.”

  
 _You arrogant fuck._ “How do you know? I might hate it.”

  
“I doubt it. Have you ever kissed a man?”

  
I wasn’t expecting this. I wish it didn’t show on my face how much he affected me. He came closer, and I braced the back of the conference table. He was so close, and he smelled so good.

  
“I take that as a no.” His face was close to mine, his hands bracing the table on either side of me. “Would you like to kiss me?”

  
“R-right now?”   
  
“Go ahead.” he dared.

  
He stood still, his thick arms still bracing me on either side. Oliver didn’t make a move, but rather waited on me to move first. I stared at him for the longest time, and he waited patiently. Why the hell not, it might make things easier for later. 

  
The first kiss was a light brush across his lips. I kissed him a second time, pressing firmer this time, feeling a bit bolder, and I dared my tongue darting across his lower lip. His mouth was soft like I imagined and tasted delicious. I leaned in for a third kiss, and he pulled away.   
  
“Not yet.” He ran a hand through his hair, stepping away. “Tell you what. I’ll call a car for you. I have some business to take care of right now. I’ll meet you later this evening for drinks, and then…. we’ll go from there.”

  
“I need a moment. I should pack some things.”

  
“I’ve got it covered. Don’t worry about any of that stuff.

  
“Ok,” I said after a few seconds.  
Oliver squeezed my shoulder and turned to leave. I hated myself, my senses, how body seemed to have a mind of it’s own around him. And the overwhelming curiosity on how this would translate when we were finally in bed together.

  
A shuttle picked me up about an hour later to take me to Liguria where this thing would take place. Truth be told I thought he send me to some rent by hour motel or one of those bungalow deals. I wasn’t expecting anything fancy which is why I was surprised to know I was actually going to Oliver’s residence.   
His place was in the foothills about an hour away from Sanremo. I was told it was a small elegant villa with white walls, and cascading ivy growing on the side of it, with a panoramic terrace overlooking a spectacular view of the sea. There was a garden surrounding it that gave the property a measure of privacy.

  
His majordomo Carlo came to greet me when I arrived around 6 that evening. “Thank you, but I wasn’t expecting all this trouble…”

  
“Mr. Zelinger advised me to make you as comfortable as possible. I assure you, its no trouble at all.”

  
He led me inside and told me once I settled in, I was free to walk around and explore wherever I wanted. I didn’t see Oliver but I knew he was around somewhere. Carlo showed me a guest bedroom downstairs I could use to bathe and change. I didn’t have to meet Oliver until 9 so I decided to look around a bit.   
The place looked about as old as my parent’s villa, but the money was there for the upkeep. The paint on the walls looked fresh, and the furniture, although it was homely and very comfortable looking, was no doubt expensive and new. The rooms had high ceilings and arched doorways, a must for Oliver’s height. There was even a small library which I would have under different circumstances, been interested in looking at.   
  
I eyed the kitchen further back and remembered last I ate was when I had lunch with Marzia earlier in the day but I didn’t have an appetite right now. Time was ticking away, no reason to delay the inevitable.   
  
I returned to the guest room where several items were already laid out for me. A plush robe, a couple of really nice pajama sets, leather slippers. The bathroom was pristine, fully stocked. Really, he shouldn’t have.

  
I’d read up on anal sex before out of curiosity and I hoped beyond all that I was preparing myself right. I spent a long time in the shower, not stopping until I scrubbed everywhere, and was satisfied that I was cleaner than the soap. I probably overdid it because I was more nervous than I wanted to be. What if Oliver didn’t like my body? What if he found it repulsive? I was pale, skinny as a stick. What if I made a fool of myself? What if my dick was too small?

  
But worst of all, what if none of that happened? What if I do like it? What if this forces me to reveal more about myself than I wanted to admit? I remembered years before on the summer in Crema when I was sixteen where I had met eyes with a stranger on a bicycle. An older man, about the age I am now. The stranger had walked up to me, propositioned me and it had awakened something in my adolescent mind that I fought to suppress. I’d rebuffed the stranger’s advances not ready to explore that side of myself. But now…

  
I dried my hair, shaved and plucked everywhere, and put on one of the pajama sets, a moss green one with gold piping, and the slippers. I don’t remember ever being this thorough before sex. I had taken off most of my jewelry except my favorite gold chain. I contemplated taking off my wedding ring, but I’d made a promise I never would. I twirled it around my finger for a moment, thinking.   
  
Tonight is nothing. It’s just sex, no feelings involved. There’s a good chance I won’t even like it. It’ll just be a spate of curiosity I can get out of my system. Just an exchange of goods and services if you will. Nothing else involved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, stay safe and healthy!


	3. Desire

Chapter 3 – Desire 

  
Carlo came to me around nine to tell me Oliver could meet me whenever I was ready. I didn’t waste any time going, the sooner this was done, the better.

  
When I arrived, the terrace was open, and Oliver was already outside. The bedroom was beautiful, but a bit narrow, the dark hardwood floors and corner nooks gave it a slightly closed in intimate feel. It was decorated with the same beautiful but comfortable furniture as the rest of the home. Even the bed, luxuriously decorated and as large as I expected someone of Oliver’s height to have, seemed warm and inviting.

  
When I finally gathered the courage to step outside to join him, he was popping open a bottle of sangiovese. I whistled appreciatively at the stunning view as Oliver finished pouring a glass and turned to hand it to me.   
  
He nearly took my breath away. He was dressed in dark navy silk pajamas, loosely fitted. He had only fastened the middle button, the tanned skin of his neck and hairy chest exposed. Below, the material flared a bit exposing a tantalizing glimpse of his lower torso. His hair looked softer, casual, parted and swept to the side the way I liked. His eyes, blue as the ocean view he’d been staring at twinkled beautifully in the moonlight sea.   
  
“This is super nice,” I said, finally breaking my gaze.

  
“I’m glad you like it. Come on out,” he offered. He lit a cigarette and passed it to me which I readily accepted and handed me a full glass. I watched his long thick fingers as he took it, and marveled at how soon, those same fingers would be on my skin. For a while we sipped and smoked staring out at the view.   
  
“I didn’t have a doubt you’d agree to this,” he said.

  
“Confident, aren’t you?”

  
“Side effect of my chosen occupation. So, tell me. Which of you made the decision?” he asked, handing me an ashtray.

  
“We both did. Marzia and me.”

  
“Really……so she didn’t try and talk you out of it?”

  
He could see I was attempting to come up with an answer and I had the sense to give up when I knew I didn’t have a comeback.   
  
“I noticed she signed the agreement first. Why do you think that is?”

  
“We signed it together.” I said evenly. This wasn’t something I really wanted to discuss. He noticed my irritation but didn’t seem fazed by it and pushed it further.

  
“And she didn’t try to stop you,” he insinuated.   
  
“What does it matter? I can’t have been here without consent.”   
  
“Fair enough. But regardless, I want to make sure this is something you consciously agreed to. I want you to know you can back out any time you want.”

  
“I don’t want to. I’m not. We’re all adults here. Besides isn’t it your call? You’re the one doing the buying.”

  
“Do you really think I have to buy people to have sex with them?”

  
“Well, now that I think about it, you aren’t really buying me, Oliver. We’re just going to fuck.”

  
“I like how dirty your mouth is. I can see you’re going to be well worth the price.”  
My cheeks reddened immediately at my comment. There was no way I was hiding how much I wanted this to happen.

  
“Why do you want me? You’re gorg—I mean, you can have whoever you want?”  
He drew closer to me until I was near enough to touch him. He smelled so good. “You think I’m gorgeous?” He touched my cheek, and I felt my skin growing hot. “Let me show you what I think of you.”

  
He took my hand led me out of the terrace and into the bedroom and followed behind me. I took a glance at the large Cal King and hated how apprehensive I felt. I wanted to be confident, nonchalant.

  
“I-I’m nervous,” I gulped softly.

  
Oliver came behind me his large hands kneading my shoulders and neck. His hands felt strong and warm, and I was unnerved by how good they felt. I wiggled away, trying to escape his grasp, but Oliver pulled me back.

  
“Hold on. That’s the problem with this. You’re too tense. You need to relax.”   
  
“I am relaxing,” I lied.   
  
Oliver turned me around to face him, his expression mildly concerned. “I know you’ve only been with women, and this is new to you. I want you to know nothing will happen that you don’t consent to. Even now. No matter how far it gets, you say no, and I’ll stop.”

  
I nodded. “Okay.”, and he took that as consent, which it was.

  
I was so nervous, scared even at first, but Oliver was patient. For a long time we only kiss, tentatively, mouths closed. And then, a light flick of his tongue coaxed my lips apart, and the kiss deepened. Oliver pulled me closer, closing what space we had left between us. His mouth is hot, soft, and tastes like tobacco and the wine we were drinking earlier. And its absolutely delicious.  
Our kisses became rougher, more insistent, adding little bites and tugs. He ran his hands through my hair, raining quick little pecks on my hair and face. “You have beautiful hair,” he murmured, tugging on little pieces and strands as he kissed me.

  
Oliver went to my neck, licking and kissing, and it turned me on, the way his stubble was scraping my skin. “I love these little moles,” he murmured. “Is the rest of your skin this nice?” The place he was kissing and nipping at where my neck and shoulder met had always been a sensitive spot for me. I fought not to let out the moan that was caught in my throat.

  
He pulled the fabric of my pajama jacket exposing more of my skin. His fingers lingered at the buttons for the longest time, as if waiting for me to protest. When he heard nothing from me, he pulled the buttons open, exposing my chest fully. His large hand grazed my left nipple, a spot that normally did nothing for me erotically, but was now tingling at his touch. I was growing more amazed at how my body was responding to him. The silk of the fabric on my pants were growing uncomfortable, the more aroused I became. When his fingers grazed fabric on my crotch ever so slightly I could no longer keep a slight whimper from escaping my lips.

  
We kept our embrace, touching kissing as we traveled closer to the bed. He quickly tugged off my pajama jacket. When he reached for the waistband of my pants, my fear returned. Oliver lifted me by the hips and the next thing I knew, I was on the bed. He pulled me down to the end, kneeling in front of me, and starting to strip down my pajamas.   
  
“Shouldn’t we turn the lights off,” I blurted out. There was the one on by the night stand, and it was dimly lit, but it was still light enough to see everything.  
“Don’t you think it will be more enjoyable if we can see each other?” He sensed my hesitation. “Is that ok with you, Elio?” he asked with concern.

  
“Y-yeah, it’s fine, I guess.”

  
He tugged lightly at the waistband of my pajamas. “Take off the rest of your clothes. Let me see all of you,” His voice was deep and low, and I found I couldn’t resist it no matter how nervous I was.  
I pulled everything off as quickly as I could. I fixed my eyes on the vaulted ceiling, and I couldn’t look at Oliver, didn’t want to. I heard him suck in his breath as he moved closer, reclining beside me.

  
“Can I touch you here, Elio?” he asked, and before I knew it, his large hand was gripping my cock. I gasped, louder than I wanted as I felt myself getting harder by the moment.

  
“Your cock is as pretty as the rest of you,” Oliver said, stroking his fingers along the length of it. He gripped it tighter, his hand stroking up and down my length. His fingers were hard and calloused, a sensation that was novel to me, but my cock seemed to like a lot. As good as his touch felt, I still felt nervous and wound up.

  
“Will you look at me, Elio?”   
I forced my eyes from the ceiling to look at him. His beautiful eyes seemed to search for a moment before an idea seemed to come to him.

  
“Turn around on your stomach, “he said.

  
I turned over, my backside fully exposed, and folded my arms above my head. A moment later, I felt something cool and tingly on my shoulders followed by Oliver’s hands. He moved his fingers over my neck, working the flesh there and kneading it until I loosened up. I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped my lips, his hands felt like magic. He slowly moved lower to my shoulders, loosening my muscles along the way. “You have the loveliest skin. Smooth…not too soft.” It had just occurred to me Oliver was complementing me all night. Could it be he thought I looked as good as I thought he did?

  
He kissed a mole on my upper back as he worked through my skin, slowly moving lower. Once he reached my lower back, my skin was like putty and I felt my body relaxing under his heavenly touch. I imagined how his hands would feel cupping my buttocks, but he skipped over that area entirely and began massaging my thigh. I turned my head and he greeted my questioning look with a smile.

  
“Patience,” I heard him chuckle.   
He massaged both my legs, ankles and didn’t miss my feet, and toes. He placed a soft kiss on my left foot before moving his hands up again. I gasped when he finally placed his hands on my ass cupping one of my cheeks.   
  
“You have such a cute little ass.” He gently kneaded both cheeks, his hands gentle as he massaged. His fingers moved closer to my crack, and I bit my lip to stifle a groan. He placed a light kiss on my right buttock, and I felt his teeth gently bite. I gasped again, my hips grinding into the sheets, and to no surprise, I was fully erect now, and starting to leak.   
  
“Lift up on your arms,” he asked gently. I did as he instructed, and Oliver moved away for a moment to the nightstand, pulling out a small bottle.   
  
“Just relax…” he’d whispered, his sexy voice soothing me as he pried open my cheeks, spreading my legs wider. My breath hitched when I felt his tongue darted over my hole. I felt my eyes roll back, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan. I had read about this kind of thing before but I never imagined it happening to me for real, nor did I expect it to feel this good.

  
“Don’t touch yourself,” Oliver instructed. His tongue went deeper, darting in and out relentlessly, his finger’s massaging my taint as he sucked. I fought the urge not to grab my cock, and instead dug my fingers into the sheets.

  
Oliver replaced his mouth with his finger, slick and lubricated, slowing pushing it into me. I clamped down, trying to force myself to get used to the sensation. After a moment, my muscles relaxed, and he tried a second finger. His fingers were large but he knew what he was doing and only pushed further when I had relaxed. I was touched at how gentle he was being, and I was so relaxed that there was only a bit of discomfort but no pain.   
  
I relaxed a bit more, and he opened me up wider. He placed one hand on my left cheek, and his fingers started to move in and out of me. After a moment he pushed a bit deeper towards my belly button and I cried out when I felt the most intense sensation shoot through my body. I shuddered, and my arms buckled under me.

  
“Oh, fuck!,” I whimpered as he relentlessly prodded me with light strokes.

  
“Do you like that?” Oliver leaned close to my ear as he spoke. He continued, stroking me with his fingers as he gripped my cock, stroking it up and down with not nearly as much friction as I wanted. My hips moved involuntarily, trying to push against his fingers.   
  
I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t want to admit what he was doing to me. That his touch was slowly unraveling me. My body was betraying me completely. I never planned to desire him this much. He added a third finger, and this time there was pain mixed with the discomfort.   
  
“Relax and breathe,” he said, pushing a bit further, but not enough to injure. He widened his fingers, spreading me further until my body accommodated. The slow movement of his fingers, and light touch of his hand felt good, but it wasn’t satisfying my wants. By now my cock was leaking, and I was desperate for release. But he still wouldn’t give it to me even though I was whining.

  
“Tell me you want it, Elio,” he whispered. _No. Don’t ‘make’ me admit it. You know what I want. Please don’t make me!_

  
“Say it,” he hissed. 

  
His fingers thrust against my prostate again, and this time I didn’t stifle my loud moans. Against my wishes, my body took over all control, completely shutting down my brain and my inhibitions.  
“Oliver…do it. I want--” My breathing was hitched, and I could hardly speak.

  
He leaned close again, his voice filled with triumph. “Beg me.”

  
 _You fucking bastard._ “Please…..” I sobbed, “Please fuck me now.”

  
I heard the rustling sound of Oliver undressing behind me and a moment later, he grabbed my waist, flipping me onto my back. Suddenly I was glad we’d kept the light on. I felt a small pang of jealousy; he was everything I wasn’t, all hairy and hard muscles. Another time, I could have spent many minutes worshipping his body, but right now my needs were more immediate.  
He brought my hands to his waistband.  
  
“Take them off.,” he commanded.

  
My hands were shaking but I managed to get a grip and pulled them down. And suddenly his dick was in front of me larger than I imagined, gorgeous and erect.   
  
I glanced up at his face and he was smirking a very hot half smile. He slid the bottle of lube towards me.   
  
“Slick it on for me.” He said, his voice was even deeper than usual. I rubbed the lube on, his cock was so hard and heavy. It made me a bit proud to know I was me that had got him that way.  
Oliver pulled me closer and lifted himself on his knees, grabbing my legs, and pulling them over his shoulders. A part of me hated how vulnerable this made me feel, like I was helpless, fully exposed. My heart raced, the fear creeping towards the surface, and he seemed to notice.   
  
“I know what I’m doing,” he assured me. “I promise this will be good for you.” And before I knew it, Oliver’s slick cock was grazing my entrance, and he was pushing in.

  
I’d fantasized about something like this happening, dreamed about it. I was already stretched from earlier, and despite the pain this was causing me, I slowly opened to him. My body wanted every inch he was giving me, and I forced myself to relax so I could satisfy that want.

  
He brought my legs from his shoulders, fitting them around his torso, pushing deeper in, his movements slow and careful. I wrapped his arms around Oliver’s shoulders, pushing my hips forward in time with him. The pain ebbed and it was starting to feel good. He was moaning my name over and over, and the sound of his voice made me even harder.

  
I grabbed hold of his neck, pulling him down closer to look at him. I wanted to see that I was having the same effect on him. The look of him moving above me, his handsome face contorted in pleasure was the hottest thing I’d had ever seen.

  
He thrust into me deeper, hitting those sensitive nerves again like he’d done with his fingers earlier. It was exquisite, like he’d unlocked a floodgate inside me. I started to unravel, the sensation of his thrusts creating waves and ripples I felt through my whole body. My gasps turned into loud moans, and before I knew it, screams. I might have been uttering something, but I was too far gone to know for sure.   
  
I dug into his shoulders tighter, shaking and quivering uncontrollably. His mouth was on my neck again, and when his teeth bit down, it brought me over the edge. I came, and it was the most intense pleasure I’d ever felt. I was still in the throes of my own orgasm when Oliver pulled himself up, straddling me as he rode me even harder. Not a moment later, he was coming as well, and he held me close as we both rode out our release.

  
My body was still trembling and quaking as Oliver held me, and I realized to my horror that I was sobbing. He lifted off me and I felt his eyes on me.

  
“Elio…” I heard him say with concern. He tried to touch my face but I couldn’t help it, I flinched and turned away, too into my feelings to respond.

  
He lifted off of me and I lay there unresponsive, as he grabbed a nearby towel and began to clean me off. When he was done, I moved further to the edge of the bed and covered my face. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I’d just fucked a man….. and liked it. I thought it would wait until morning, but the guilt and shame I was feeling wouldn’t stay buried. And what did this mean for my marriage? Would my wife even want to touch me now?   
  
There was also the sinking feeling now, that Oliver wasn’t completely out of my system. I was almost certain, even in the state my mind was in now, I would let him have me again. It could happen, and the night was still young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver POV in the next chapter and, he will make it all better.


	4. Leaving and Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never thought a rewrite would be harder (but more fun) than writing the original. Thanks so much for reading so far!

Oliver POV

I wanted him almost from the first moment I saw him. Maybe it was the way he looked at me. Not with the awe and admiration that men and women who knew of me looked at me. I didn’t sense any ulterior motives in his stares, just pure desire and longing. The way he stole little glances at me when he thought I hadn’t noticed. And l loved it. It made me remember how I felt when I was younger, newly cut off without a penny to my name. Back then, a man or woman would see me and want me because I was a guy they were attracted to. With no other motive except satisfying our desires and making each other feel good.

No, I’m not naïve. I understood what this arrangement was and the circumstances for Elio being in my bed. I preferred it this way. This way we both knew what we were getting and there would be no guessing, and very few strings. I could semi-forget I was Oliver, the billionaire financial maven with deep generous pockets. The one everyone looked for to fund their start up, or real estate investment, or artistic career. Not to mention the dozens more just looking for a sugar daddy to bankroll whatever lifestyle they were accustomed to but couldn’t afford on their own. There was even a blackmail threat; fortunately that one backfired spectacularly.

And, I also understood a measure of what Elio was feeling right now. He was facing his sexuality in an honest way, something I was well aware he hadn’t done before. I wanted to touch him, but I didn’t. I wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, how much I’d enjoyed it, how there was no shame in anything we did or felt. Everything that was never told to me in my distant past, and I had to eventually accept for myself.

In the end, it was probably better to say nothing for the moment. I decided to give him some time, and reached towards the nightstand, took out a cigarette, and lit it. I blew through it and it relaxed me a bit and put my mind more at ease. When I was finished I reached for a second one.

“Do you want one?” I asked absently. Elio didn’t answer, but I noticed his body was still, and he no longer seemed to be crying. I decided to take a different approach. “You know, I think you’ve been keeping something from me, Elio.” He turned his head towards me slightly, his back still turned as if he were listening to me.

“I’m a little confused. I thought you were Italian.”

“What?” he asked, his voice was weepy but alert, and a bit confused.

“Well, I was just wondering. Do you always climax in French?”

Elio turned on his back and looked at me fully, then, his eyes wide with shock. “What?...Nooo.. Oh God!!” He covered his eyes with his hands again. He seemed embarrassed but he was smiling now and looked very amused at the same time. He sat up a bit more, turning towards me. “Dude, I didn’t.” he giggled.

“It was hot as hell. You’ll have to tell me what you were saying sometime.”

“I don’t even remember what I was saying, I was so---It was…..man, it was…..” His voice was breathless. He looked down, his cheeks were starting to redden up again.

“That’s the usual response I get.” I said smugly, taking another drag for good measure.

He sat up fully, now. “Were you born this conceited?”

“Is it conceit if it’s the truth? I can’t do what I do for a living and not have some measure of confidence.”

“Maybe it _isn’t_ true,” he shrugged. I sensed he was trying to take me down a peg. He gave me a challenging look. “Maybe it was just ok. I could have been faking some of it.”

I snuffed out my cigarette and turned to him, cupping his face with my hands, my fingers caressing his cheeks and jaw. His beautiful green eyes were now staring at me intently, all pretense of humbling me was gone “Tell me you _were_ faking it.” I ran my fingers over his full red lips before kissing him softly. He leaned into the kiss and whimpered. “Tell me you didn’t want my mouth on you.” I moved my lips to his neck. The lower part where I’d discovered earlier he liked to be touched. “Tell me you didn’t want every inch of me inside you.”

“Oliver...” he groaned, his voice deeper than usual.

This was unfair, I knew it. These sensations were novel to Elio’s body, and he was oversensitive to my touch. I wanted him again. Would have him again before the night was over but the present moment I had more immediate needs. I gave him a light peck to his lips and pulled away.

“Why don’t we hold that thought for a second,” I said. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Good sex either made me very sleepy or very hungry. I’d discovered from Carlo earlier that Elio hadn’t eaten dinner, and likely hadn’t had anything since before he left the hotel. And he would need nourishment for what I had planned for him for the rest of the night.

I grabbed my robe and padded downstairs to the kitchen. I’ll have to thank Carlo later for leaving a small ten inch margherita pizza in the fridge that just needed a quick heating up. He’d even left chilling a small bottle of excellent Verdicchio to go with it. I paired some various fruits with it, glasses of water, nothing too complicated.

When I got back, he was taking the last drags of a cigarette he’d been smoking while waiting. His face lit up when he saw the food. “Look at you, all thoughtful,” he beamed.

“I’m sure we’ll find a way for you to show me your appreciation later,” I winked.

We spent a bit of time in bed eating and talking. Elio, it turned out, had decent working knowledge of the wines of this region, and even some of the history of them. Our conversation turned to other topics of history and even though I was well versed in the subject, I found it a challenge to keep up with him.

“Elio, is there anything you don’t know at least three facts about?”

“You already know I have a professor for a father,” he said, polishing off another slice of pizza. “I spent my summers in Crema, and in a little town like that, sometimes there wasn’t must else to do but read. It’s hard not to know a little something about everything when you have hundreds of books lying around.”

He reached up to touch his hand to my neck where my necklace hung. A star of David I’ve worn since shortly before I came out to my parents.

“I used to have one myself,”

“Used to?”

“Yeah,” Elio shrugged “Its probably at home somewhere but I haven’t looked for it. When I was a teenager, I was pretty sure my family were the only Jews in Crema.”

“Try growing up in New England.”

The pizza completely devoured, I sat the empty tray to the side, poured us a glass of the chilled wine, and set the fruit bowl between us. “When I met your father all those years ago, he told me he took on interns during the summer seasons. He even asked me to apply.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Other plans took over.” In truth my soon to be ex insisted I spend vacation with her family in the Hamptons and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“You know a lot about history, art…you might have been good to have around.”

“Would you have liked that?” I grabbed a ripe grape and popped it into Elio’s mouth. “Meeting me back then in the summer?” I fed him another grape, and he stuck out his tongue provocatively before taking it in his mouth and swallowing it down. “I might have assisted your father with his research at his villa in the daytime,” I continued. “And at night, fucked you under the same roof.”

His dick jerked at the idea, and didn’t escape my notice. He stared at me, taking a long swig of his wine. “What makes you think I would have been that easy?”

“But you wouldn’t be. For a long time, we’d dance around the idea, flirt a bit, resist each other, test each other’s resolve.” I took the rest of our food and drink and set them aside, then pulled him to me. “But we won’t put each other through that tonight.”

I kissed his lips softly, his mouth sweet and tangy with the wine he’d just been drinking. I pulled away to look at him, and his pretty eyes were glazed over, his mouth slightly open, and for a moment, I took in the sight of him. He wasn’t the type I was usually attracted to. He didn’t have the stocky muscular build I usually liked in men, or the smooth soft curves I found appealing in women. He was beautiful, not feminine. Delicate but not soft at all. Wiry and angular, strong jawed, the last vestiges of boyhood were fast fading from his face.

“Lay down on your back for me,” I asked.

He obeyed without question, laying back and giving me full access. I kissed his chest, the thin skin on his ribs, his lower abdomen. He ran his hands in my hair trying to get me to go lower. I continued kissing his stomach, not going as low as he wanted. I ran my fingers across the hair at his groin, not touching his cock, but teasing around it. He groaned, his hips jerking up as he began to swell and stiffen.

I grabbed it in my hand and looked up at him for permission. “Can I taste you, Elio?”

“God….yes, please,” he breathed.

I grabbed the base of his cock, flicking my tongue along the base and licking further along the length. He hissed, jerking his hips up again. I held him in place and he squirmed under me as I squeezed the base of his sex. I spared him no mercy, running my tongue along his balls, licking and sucking them.

When I finally let him push into my mouth he tasted as good as he looked at that moment. His gasps was ragged and his breath was becoming more labored with each second.

His hands were in my hair, pulling, and gripping. “Oliver…. please...no… not this way.” I tightened my lips around him and loosened my grip on his waist so he could push in deeper. I only half heard him, I didn’t want to stop tasting him. “Please…I don’t….don’t want to come like this.” He pushed up and away from me and let go of him.

“What do you want?”

I pulled me up next to him, and he seized my shoulders trying to push me onto my back. “Let me ride you,” he whispered breathlessly.

For the first time this night Elio was telling me what he wanted, and at this point, I was ready to give him anything. Before I knew it, one minute he was slicking lube on me, and the next, he was sliding me in. I lay there as he moved over me, and I let him find his rhythm, moving whichever way felt best to him. In no time, he was rocking up and down, letting himself go, chasing his pleasure, and not holding back.

I gripped his slim waist, pushing up into him, and he let me take him as hard as I wanted.

“Fuck….so fucking huge,” he gasped. His body clenched around me and I knew he was close. His release overtook him, and he threw his head back his body shaking and quivering. The sight of him unraveling undid me and I found my release soon after.

I held him above me for a long while after as our bodies started to calm. I don’t remember the last time I’d ever felt so drained. I felt my body grow limp and numb, the strong pull of sleep was starting to lull me.

Elio, already languid by now, had collapsed on top of me, his breathing calming more every second. I pulled him off of me gently and forced myself to make a half hearted attempt to clean us off. By then, he had rolled over on his side, fast asleep. I moved him close to me, his back against my chest, gave a soft kiss to his hair and was instantly asleep right after.

(Morning)

I think in some way I may have cheated myself. Had I known the previous night would go so splendidly, I would have demanded three nights, maybe a week, even. Enough time to touch and taste every inch of him. Instead I would have to be left with this one memory to regale me in my lonely nights in the future.

Elio was still sleeping soundly, strands of his beautiful hair falling into his face as he dozed. He’d worn me out completely, and I wanted to climb back in bed myself, but I had too many commitments to take care of that couldn’t wait. As much as I wanted to, I refrained from touching him, in case he woke suddenly. I showered and groomed in another room, so I wouldn’t disturb him. My suit and shoes were already laid out for me when I finished. At the door, I gave instructions for Carlo for the villa. It would be some time before I was back here again. I felt a twinge of regret that I would never see him again after today. I finished dressing and headed down to meet Carlo.

“What should I do about our guest,” he asked.

“Let him sleep as long as he wants. Don’t wake him up unless it’s past noon.”

My phone rang as I headed out the door, and I was so out of it still, I didn’t bother to check the number before I answered. I immediately wished I had checked it.

“Oliver, it’s been two weeks. Why have you not called?”

“No ‘good morning? Not even a ‘hello’, mother?”

“Not at all. When are you coming home?” Her voice was as irritated and acidic as usual.  
“Early next week. Why do you want to know,” I bit back.

“Because your wife—”

“Soon to be ex wife.”

“Your wife,” she continued. “ the mother of your son, has been asking for you?”

“Last I spoke to her, all she was asking for was half my assets, and no access to my son.”

“She’s upset, Oliver. The responsible thing to do would be to work things out with Dina and put this whole ordeal behind you.”

“Just leave it, mother. Our marriage isn’t any business of yours.”

“It is when legacy is involved. Your son is the sole carrier of this family’s name. How do you think your actions reflect on that legacy?”

“Legacy? Since when do you give a damn about anything but money and status?”

“Don’t you dare accuse me of not caring about your happiness! Especially when I’m trying to tell you that saving your marriage is what’s best for you.”

“You’d like it that way, wouldn’t you? All neat and tidied up. Which one of your society hags are you competing with this time for most perfect life?”

There was silence, and I could sense her cold blue eyes searing through me even over the phone. Eyes I was told I’d inherited to the letter.

“You just make sure you’re back by Monday,” she said, “ or Dina won’t be the only one you’ll be answering to.”

She hung up with a loud clank after that, thank god. She could bitch and threaten all she wanted. I had long since stopped being irritated by my parents. Not a single dime of my wealth came from my miserable family and I was glad the one happiness it gave me meant I was free of their control. The small part of me that still loved her wanted to call her back and patch things up. I knew she somewhat cared for me in her own way. She just loved money and status more. But in the end I decided against it.

On my way back to my offices in Venice, I deposited the funds in Elio’s casino account. One million. Agreement fulfilled.

Transaction complete and terms satisfied. But that left just one problem.

My desire for him was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know. The next one will be meatier. Also notice, the end of Part 1 is in sight. Planning 3 parts, inspired by Luca Guadanino's Desire series which was 3 movies (i.e. 3 parts)


	5. Everything is Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quote: I don’t associate youth with beauty. They are two different things. I see beauty in aging, too. In the body and in the life. But this physical beauty, I’m sure, comes out of your own personal beauty. And it couldn’t be there if an inner beauty wasn’t there.  
> -Bjorn Andresen

Elio POV

  
The thing that brought me out of the oblivion of sleep was my back feeling cold where before it had felt so warm and nice. I half opened my eyes, still half asleep, I reached my arm over, looking to find a body beside me, but was gripping cold sheets instead. When I finally opened my eyes and focused, the first thing I noticed was the sun beaming in and blazing. The bed felt so good, I was almost tempted to drift back off, but the sunlight was persistent and forced me to finally open my eyes. I sat up a bit and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was not quite nine thirty. I hadn’t meant to sleep so late. I didn’t think I’d be waking up alone. I looked over at the crumpled sheets, the empty space that Oliver had occupied hours before, and wished he’d at least stayed so we could wake up together.

  
I forced myself to get up and it was a struggle to walk to the bathroom. I knew I would feel it in my backside the next day, but I couldn’t resist having him just one more time. I had never felt pleasure that intense before, and I’d never get the chance to feel it again. I resolved that it was worth the pain I’d feel later, and maybe the shame as well.

  
The bathroom was impressive once I reached it. Dark tiled floors and walls, a huge garden tub in a corner. But as troubled as I was, the scenery didn’t make much of an impression on me. I went straight for the sink to start cleaning up, took one look at myself in the mirror, and I was almost horrified. My face was red and flushed, my lips swollen, little nicks and bruises were visible on my neck and left shoulder. No way I was going to be able to hide this. I touched one particularly purple bruise, remembering exactly how I got it, and in spite of myself I couldn’t help but grin just a little bit.

  
I finished at the sink, went straight for the shower and didn’t wait for the water to turn warm to get under it. I could still smell Oliver on me, residue of his aftershave, his natural scent so potent and masculine. Able to turn me on even hours later. He was affecting my senses and he wasn’t even here anymore. My body reacted automatically, and my desire for him came back full force, but I fought back the urge to touch myself. My body had betrayed me, and traitors do not deserve reward.

  
The water in the shower drenched over my skin, soothing my soreness, easing my arousal. But I could still feel him inside of me. He should have stayed, or maybe I should have woken up earlier. If I had, he might have been here right now in the shower with me where we could make one last memory.   
  
I washed until I could smell nothing on me except soap, but I’ll have to leave the marks for now. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, the bed was freshly made. Sweater and dark cargo slacks, the slim kind I like to wear were laid out on the bed for me, nicer than what I came in. I shook my head in disbelief. Oliver had taken care of me so much better than I’d expected. The clothing I came in had been laundered and placed in a duffel at the foot end. I guess this was my cue to leave.

  
Carlo was there when I got downstairs, and he offered me breakfast but I was more ready to leave than I was hungry. As guilty as I felt I was anxious to get back to Marzia. To see if she was ok. To see if she still loved me after all of this. I wasn’t worried about the money, I knew that was probably already there.

  
The money.

  
I had almost let myself forget about that. It’s what I was there for, after all. That variable was added in to the equation, and brought a sense of finality to it all. All of these ideas I had about pleasure, and attraction. In reality all it was is just a transaction. A cheap thrill for some rich guy to get off on. Bodies were supposed to be priceless but now I knew exactly how much mine was worth. And now I knew why I was upset. For some reason I wanted to think last night was more than it was. That it meant more. Because I genuinely wanted to be with him. Because I actually liked him.

  
No…. no breakfast. I couldn’t wait to get the hell away from there. The shuttle ride back seemed to take twice as long, and I was relieved when it was finally over. When I got back I made a bee line to our hotel suite. I couldn’t wait to see my wife. To get back to what was real. But I was also scared about how she would look at me.   
  
When I made it to our room and first saw Marzia, she looked so different. Her hair had been styled and her makeup and nails were done. She was wearing a pretty deep blue sheath dress. Shopping bags and gift boxes were situated in a pile by the couch. She didn’t hesitate to rush to me, and I took her in my arms, finally ready to go home.

  
“Wow… you look beautiful.”

  
“Do you really like it? They wanted to fix me up for when you saw me next. You know this isn’t my normal style.” She tried to look happy, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “They wouldn’t leave me alone. They kept offering me things, pampering me…distractions. Anything I wanted. They said it was complimentary and wouldn’t come out of our money.”

  
I nodded, and we looked at each other for a long time.

  
“Are you alright.” She asked. “He didn’t-----”

  
“Noooo… no. I’m fine,” I’m not fine, Marzia. I feel cheap as hell. I don’t know what to think about myself.

  
“So….is it done? Did you—”

  
“Don’t think about it,” I said quickly. I held her to me, grateful when she embraced me back. I climbed on the couch pulling her onto my lap with me.

“Don’t think about it anymore. It’s over.”

  
“Elio…do you think we can go home now? Immediately, even? I don’t want to be here a moment longer,”

  
I nodded and pulled her closer. Despite what I was feeling, we did the right thing. We can get past this. This isn’t going to break us.

  
On the train ride home, this thing we’d done to our marriage was in the back of our minds but we talked about mundane stuff mostly. Marzia heading back to her clinical work, the online concert stream my our orchestra was preparing for, little routine things tasks around the apartment we had to finish.

  
We returned to our tiny loft in Padua and it seemed even smaller compared to their suite in the Royal. Marzia made a call to both our parents when we settled in, then set to unpacking our things. We continued doing mundane things to keep our minds busy from the inevitable. We had asked the casino to deposit the funds in their joint account. I wasn’t in a hurry to check it. After we’d thought of every errand, and chore, luggage unpacked, the apartment cleaned, and dinner cooking, we decided we couldn’t delay any longer.   
  
We logged into our online account and there it was. One million and some three thousand euro. I kept counting the zeros to make sure the decimal was in the right place.

  
“I guess it’s really done now,"Marzia said quietly.

  
I wanted to ask her how she was feeling. What she thought of me. Why she agreed to it. We’d barely said a word on the train ride home. Instead I took the easy route.

  
“I want to do something special with it,” I suggested. “Let me do something for you. What have you always wanted?”   
  
“Debt comes first, maybe? We can give our parents a percentage of it.”

  
“What about you?”

  
“I don’t want anything,” she said a bit too quickly, then tried to walk it back. “I mean…it should be a joint thing.”

  
“Right…….”

  
“This is a little overwhelming and were tired from the trip. Can we talk about it another time?”

  
I searched Marzia’s face but she looked closed off, unreadable. She was staring at the laptop screen at our account balance. I decided to let it go for now. And maybe forever. Was there really a need to bring up what was now past not matter how recent?

  
I was smart enough to know sex wasn’t going to happen this night but I’d hoped my wife would at least stop giving me the cold shoulder. Sometimes on nights neither of us were in the mood (which was rare), she would lay against my side and we would talk each other to sleep. I was hoping tonight would be one of those nights.

  
“I’m just really tired,” she insisted.

  
“Just for a little while,” I begged. “We don’t have to talk about Sanremo.” But a part of me wanted her to ask me. While I was feeling open and had the courage to tell her. When I needed her to tell me it was ok to feel the way I did and like the things I did with Oliver. And to forgive me for loving her completely but still wanting Oliver physically in spite of it. Did some other universe exist somehow where I could have Marzia’s heart and Oliver’s body at the same time?

  
“Soon,” she said. “I promise.” Marzia rose from the bed and left the room. “I can’t sleep. I’m going to read for a bit.”   
  
I didn’t bother to follow her.   
  
The next day at breakfast was just as awkward. I just ate the breakfast she made for me in silence. Marzia had dark circles under her eyes like she hadn’t gotten much sleep. Neither did I and I must look just as tired. She was set to go back to her clinical work today, and I had to rehearse. We brushed against each other when we cleaned the table afterwards, and she flinched.

  
“Excuse me,” she murmured, moving past me quickly.

  
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

  
”I think I’m just still tired from our trip. Don’t think about it.”

  
We looked at each other for a long moment. I reached out and took her in my arms and was relieved when this time she embraced me back.

  
“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to act this way,” Marzia said “Really, I’m just tired, and not anxious to get back to work today” she said. But I knew what it really was.

  
“I know what we need. Let’s go out to dinner this weekend and celebrate,” I said. “Anywhere you want. We’re practically millionaires now.”

  
“I forgot about that,” she smiled and seemed to perk up just a little. “Okay,” she agreed.  
_________________________________________________________________________________  
A romantic evening was just what we needed to start over again. The rest of the week went by and I made plans for this little Venetian place called Marechiaro. I had been so careful about the reservation time, the seating, the wine. I had one of my best suits cleaned.   
  
Throughout that time, Marzia hadn’t warmed up a bit and I was beginning to lose hope. I wanted to be patient but her attitude toward me was starting to anger me. It was getting bad enough that I’d had to rub one out in the shower to keep my frustration under control. But I held out hope after our special dinner that night we’d be back on track.   
  
To her credit, Marzia at least made a great effort to look nice. The evening had started out ok until we actually had to talk to each other. She had two glasses of wine and hardly picked at her food.

  
“Was this a good choice?” I asked hopefully.

  
“It’s fine, Elio,” she smiled.

  
“You’ve hardly touched anything. Aren’t you hungry?”

  
“Not really.”

  
“You’re not really anything lately, are you?” I didn’t even try to hide how upset I was.

  
She looked up from her plate at me sharply at my angry tone. “I can’t help it if I don’t feel like it.”

  
“You don’t feel like anything. You don’t feel like talking, you don’t feel like touching me. You sure as hell don’t want to fuck me.”

  
“I told you I need a little time.”

  
“It’s been a ‘little time’ already. How much time do you need?”

  
“I don’t know. I just know I need it.”

  
“What about what I need?”   
  
“Didn’t you already get that?” Her tone was bitter.

  
“What do you mean ‘didn’t I already’?”

  
She shook her head, seeming to regret what she just said but I knew what she meant. “Is this about the contract?”

  
“Maybe. You want us to be intimate. It hasn’t even been a week since…….”

  
“Since what?” I sneered. It upset me that she was bringing this up. We were supposed to be moving on. This was supposed to be a new start for us and she wanted to throw dirt in my face.

  
“Lets just go. I’m not hungry, and I don’t want to be here.”

  
She stood up to leave and for a moment I wanted her to just walk out alone. The shittiest date I ever had in my life didn’t come close to this. We left the restaurant and didn’t talk for the rest of the way home. I decided then that we shouldn’t go to bed in the state we were in. When we reached home, I touched her shoulder to stop her from going directly to the bedroom.

  
“I’m tired Elio,” she said quietly.

  
“I think we should talk,’ I insisted. “We should have from the start.”

  
“I don’t want to talk.”

  
“I can’t fix what’s going on with us if you don’t talk to me,” I insisted.  
She suddenly turned on me, angry.

  
“But you know what’s going on. I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”

  
“Would it help you if I told you it meant nothing”

  
“Nothing? Do you know what his stupid staff kept telling me while you were gone? They said Oliver was the greatest fuck ever. They said you were the luckiest man ----”

  
“Marzia---”

  
“….and his dick was legendary,” she sneered. “Do you know how that makes me feel?”

  
“Don’t let it make you feel that way. What he and I did and what we do are two separate things.”

  
“Did you like it?”   
  
I could see this was upsetting her very much. I had liked it. Very much, and truth be told, I wondered how long it would be before I craved an experience like that again.

  
I grabbed her hands. “Let’s air it out right now. I’ll tell you anything you want to know about that night. But you have to promise me you won’t bring this up again,” 

  
She seemed to struggle with herself, but after a long silence, she nodded. I brought her over near the kitchen and sat her in front of me on their dinette chairs.

  
“Ask me what you want. I’ll be as truthful as possible.” As long as it doesn’t hurt your feelings. I held both her hands.

  
“Did he hurt you?” she asked with concern.

  
“Nooo.. no” Yes, but in a good way.

  
“Did you talk about me any?”

  
“Nothing important. He wanted to know who decided. I told him we decided together.” What made you finally agree, I wonder?

  
“Did you do the same things we do in bed?”

  
“No, it was different,” But fuck, it was good.

  
“Did you do it more than once?”

  
“He wanted to do different things.” But yes, more than once. What made you even ask that?

  
“Did you enjoy it?” she asked quietly.

  
Shit! “Marzia…….”

  
“Did you enjoy it.” She insisted, a bit louder.

  
“Does it matter? It’s not going to happen again.”

  
“Did you enjoy it!” even louder.

  
“Why do you want to know!” I said, my voice also louder.

  
“Just answer me!” She shouted.

  
“I am. It was sex. Was I not supposed to enjoy it?”

  
“WHY WONT YOU TELL ME!”

  
I was sick of this conversation. I jerked my hands away from her and stood and began shouting louder as well.   
  
“What do you want me to say!? Ok. Yes! I liked it. He was a god! He was hung like a fucking stallion. We did it all night. Is that what you want to hear?!”   
  
As soon as I said the words she started crying in earnest. My anger wouldn’t let me comfort her. Not after what she put me through over the last few days.

  
“While were asking questions, I have one for you. Why did you sign the contract? If you didn’t want me to fuck him why did you go along with this?”

  
“I should have stopped you. We didn’t have to do it. We should have found another way.”

  
“We didn’t. And look at us now. But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

  
“Because I knew. I knew you wanted to. When he took us to dinner that night, I knew. Don’t ask me how.”

  
“Marzia….”

  
“He danced with me,” she continued.  
  
“You remember, right? He’s really very handsome, Elio. Charming. Persuasive. He told me he’d never seen a man so beautiful as you.”

  
“Really? He said that?” I tried not to sound pleased at that last part.

  
“The way he worded the whole thing. He promised me this was a physical thing only. That this was a three-way contract with three beneficiaries.”

  
I saw Marzia and Oliver dancing together. Talking. I saw her break away from him and come back to me. She was upset but I didn’t know the details of the conversation.

  
“You don’t know this, Elio, but I contacted his people early the next morning while you were in the shower. The morning after you and I talked in bed after dinner with Oliver. I told him the deal was off. That we weren’t going to do it.”

  
“I wouldn’t have faulted you for it, you know that.”

  
“I know that. But then he offered the 1 million tax free, and he said he would buy your parent’s debt and absolve it. That was the deal we ultimately ended up signing.”

  
I sat back down. That’s why she did it. Given that, how could she have told me she was refusing that.   
  
“I don’t remember even reading that part. After I saw the million in print, I guess I kind of skimmed over that part.”

  
“No, you read it correctly. That part isn’t written down, it was a verbal agreement.” She said absently. “I’m sorry I went behind your back, and didn’t tell you before, Elio.”

  
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? We had no money and were happy. Now we have money and were miserable.”

  
“Now that we are. Are we going to be ok? Are we going to get through this?

  
“I’ll fix what’s between us. I promise,” I said.   
  
I knelt next to her and her sobs started to calm down. “Marzia. It was sex. That’s all it was. Please forget about it.”

  
She nodded. “Ok. I won’t ask you ever again. I promise.”

  
“Let me take you to bed,” I said softly. ‘We don’t have to do anything, let me just hold you if you want.”

  
Marzia nodded again. I lifted her and carried her to our room.

  
Despite the previous night’s events we both were rested enough that our moods were better. Breakfast was very nice, and we even kissed before Marzia headed into town to continue her nursing clinicals. Things might be on track again. I just needed to clear away one thing that was nagging me.

  
I pulled out our copy of the contract we signed. Like Marzia said, it wasn’t written anywhere on the contract. Not that I couldn’t trust Oliver would keep his word, but if it isn’t written down, I had to be sure. I had to call dad to find out. When he answered, he spoke in that calm soothing voice that always seemed to put me at ease.

  
“Elio…your mother and I were just about to call you,” He sounded good, happy even, and less frail than he usually did. “Did you have a good trip?”

  
“It was fine, papa. Well, not exactly fine. Something came up that I wanted to tell you about.”

  
“The same here. The bank called this morning. You’ll never believe this, but they told us the lien on our villa was paid in full.”

  
“I know,” I said, scrambling for a story. How could I tell my dad the truth was that I sold myself to pay for it.

  
“You know?” His tone was surprised and confused at the same time.

  
“Papa, you know Marzia and I went to Sanremo to see if we could win enough money to help you out. Well, we met someone there.”

  
“Met someone?”

  
“Yeah. And he…gave us the money.” I steadied my voice. I had to come up with something believable, and soon.  
“Elio…..you aren’t in some kind of trouble, are you?”

  
“No…no nothing like that. Like I said, we met someone. We went to the casino. This high roller asked Marzia to blow on his dice. He won, and he offered to split his win with us.” So, it was a half-truth. A lie, but not a complete lie. 

  
“That’s an incredible story,” he said. “And you’re sure there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?”

  
“N-no, papa. T-that’s what happened.

  
Really…..it’s great isn’t it?”

  
“It is,” he said slowly. “Why don’t you and Marzia come by the house next weekend. We have some friends stopping by that haven’t seen you in a while. We can talk about it more, then.”

  
“Sure, ok. I can do that. I love you, papa.”

  
We said our goodbyes. I sensed he only half bought what I said. I know he knew there was something else I wasn’t telling him. I was never that good at lying.

  
So it was true after all. Oliver had kept his word. Even more wrong than lying, I couldn’t resist the urge to see him again. I hope I wasn’t too late and he’d left already. I didn’t tell Marzia but I had kept his card in my wallet when we’d left the Royal for home. His Mirano office address was on it. Marzia would be in school all day. I could make the thirty-minute trip to Oliver’s company office in Mirano, and be back before she made it home. For all I knew he probably wouldn’t be there, and nothing would come of it. I’m sure the reason I wanted to see him wasn’t sexual. Ok, maybe a bit but that wasn’t really why. I just wanted to see him.  
_________________________________  
  
Oliver POV (Monday morning. Late March)

  
“If you don’t want to reconcile and try to save this marriage, Oliver, I have no other choice but to take you to court.”

  
“I think you’re making a mistake, Dina. And one hundred million is fair. I’ll even throw in the house in Roslyn. That’s the one you want, anyway.”

  
“Five hundred, Oliver. And thirty percent ownership of the zoned properties in Long Island, and Oakland. I really don’t want to have to get lawyers involved in this.”

  
“No fucking way you’re entitled to that much! You didn’t earn a cent of it, and if you fight me on this, you wont even end up with what I’m already offering.”  
I didn’t care how loud my voice was or if anyone outside my office could hear me. There were few people who could get me as angry as her. Early in our relationship, it was great. It added fuel to what in the beginning was an extremely passionate and exciting marriage. I learned pretty soon, though, that I wasn’t the only one she was excited about. Friends tried to warn me before I married Dina that she was a cutthroat whore that had been driven through more times than the north side of I-91, but she was hot. Still is. And I didn’t care I was young and stupid and in love.   
  
The money wasn’t actually the sticking point. It was the fact that she also wanted full custody of the only good thing our marriage produced. Jake. I was afraid at first given Dina’s track record that he wouldn’t even be mine. But there he was, the same eyes, same hair. Same smile. Of course, I had a paternity test done to make certain I was the father, but I didn’t have a doubt.  
“Look…you don’t want this. Take the money. Give me joint custody. It’s a fair deal.”

  
“This is your fault, Oliver. Divorce was your idea, not mine. It doesn’t mean you get to walk away scott free. You fight me, and you will lose. Big.”

  
“We’ll see about that.” I slammed the receiver down. Landline phones were great when you need to vent after an angry call. Luna popped her head in the door tentatively, ready to retreat at any second.

  
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Zelinger. Your mother is on hold. She said you were supposed to be back in the states today. Also, your ten o’clock is here.”  
“Send him in. I’ll see him now.”

  
“What about your mother?”

  
“Make up an excuse.”

  
Turns out this meeting wasn’t going to make my morning any brighter. Things sounded so promising over the phone. What I thought would be the start of a profitable venture turned out to be a bitter disappointment. Considering how shitty my day had started, I expected things to start looking up. I was anxious to get the meeting over with. The man in front of me had nothing to offer, and it was clear after a few probing questions that his company was practically insolvent and looking for capital any way they could get it.

  
“Look, I’m sure there’s money somewhere in the commodities you’re selling, but I don’t think----”

  
“But Dafen based art is on the rise again. In the next year, the market is going to----”

  
“Dafen churns out a bunch of cheap knockoffs. None of that stuff is going to fetch a high enough price to take an interest.”  
After a few more moments of arguing, he’d finally taken the hint that nothing was coming out of this, and mercifully left. I needed a cigarette, but more than that, I needed a rest. My flight was due to leave the day after tomorrow much to my mother’s annoyance. In addition to this bullshit divorce battle, I was going to have to deal with her as well. I slumped down at my desk and searched one of the drawers for that in demand cigarette. I was no longer in the mood and meant to call it an early day. I buzzed Luna and told her no more visitors and lit up my cigarette. I intended to take a few long slow puffs before I closed up shop.

  
Luna popped her head in again, her face apologetic at having to disturb me again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zelinger. There’s another visitor waiting to see you.”  
“What? Not now. Say whatever you want, just get rid of them.” I didn’t have the patience right now for anyone else demanding something from me and giving nothing in return. She turned to leave, but my unwanted visitor slipped around and past her with a nimble grace I would never have. My mood lifted immediately when I noticed who it was.

  
“I promise it’ll only take a second,” he said.

  
Luna looked at me helpless and apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zelinger. I’ll call security.”  
“No, don’t. It’s alright.” Luna left and we were alone.

  
Elio…..I never expected to see him again. But there he was again, all long limbs and nervous energy. I could tell he hadn’t put much thought into his appearance, but he was stunning nonetheless. his choice a slim pair of dark jeans, dark boots. A thin white t shirt peaked through under the dark leather jacket he was wearing. The same thin gold chain he’d wore that night in Liguria hung across his beautiful neck.   
  
“Um..hi.” he said nervously. His hands were behind his back and he was rocking back and forth on his heels. I looked at him blankly. What was he doing here now? He glanced around the office nodding in approval. He picked up a figurine on a shelf in the corner and quickly put it back down. “It’s really nice. Your office I mean.”

  
I continued to stare at him with that blank face I’d learned in my poker playing days. He looked away from me and scratching the back of his head nervously.   
  
“Um… look. I didn’t plan on staying long. If you’re busy—”

  
“What are you doing here?” I asked in the coldest voice I could manage though I was feeling anything but.

  
He blinked at my tone, and what little confidence he had seemed to falter. “I-I just wanted to see you.” He walked a bit closer toward me. “Look man…I don’t mean to bother you—”

  
“Then why are you?” I thought he would have forgotten about me. Take our night together as a catalyst to explore this new aspect of his sexuality I had helped him to discover.   
  
“I-I wanted to talk. About the contract.”

  
“What about it? Did the money not get there?”

  
“No no---it’s fine.”

  
“Well, I sure know you don’t need more,” I huffed.   
  
“Oh… no, no...I’m good,” he laughed and I couldn’t help but grin inside. He had the dumbest little adorable laugh.

  
“Are you looking for something?”

  
“No…I told you, I don’t want anything.”

  
“It doesn’t work that way. You want something out of this so why don’t you tell me so you can leave.” I was being an asshole, I know. But I couldn’t help it. This always happens. No one ever comes to see me unless their hand is out for something.   
  
His pretty face turned from nervous to slightly annoyed. “I didn’t come for anything like that. Why the hell are you----"

  
“Listen, Elio. I don’t have a lot of time—”

  
“Look, I just wanted you to know, alright? Before you left. It wasn’t about the money at all. I-I wanted to do it. I really did.” I was taking my annoyance of what happened this morning out on him, but I in truth I didn’t know how else to act. I’d wanted him as well. Standing there right now, I still did. I was so messed up and jaded.

  
“That’s nice, Elio. I’m touched. Really.” He blinked again at my sarcasm. I hadn’t turned off my cold stare yet. I could tell the way I was acting was hurting his feelings.   
  
“Asshole,” he murmured under his breath just loud enough for me to hear him. He was visibly upset now, his eyes starting to water.   
  
“Maybe I am.” I hated it but it had to be this way. “Maybe you’re confusing the arrangement for more than what it was.”  
“I’m not. I’m just---”

  
“Grow up, Elio. It was a one time thing. It’s over, now. You got something and I did as well.”

  
“I’m not stupid. I know what it was. I’m just letting you know that I wanted to sleep with you. I might have regardless. Even without the money.”

  
“Well, shit. I wish I’d have known that beforehand.”   
  
I looked at him full on and surprised even myself that I was able to keep a straight face. His beautiful eyes were tearing up, and I felt horrible for having hurt him. Actually, I felt too many things for someone I’d know for so short a time. He was dangerously getting under my skin. I now realized it was not just his beauty I was attracted to. There was something about him I wanted that was more than his body, which was alluring and exquisite on it’s own. Something that made me want to pay anything to have it.

  
Go home, Elio. Go home to your wife. You don’t want to deal with anyone as messed up as me. I promise you.

  
“You know what? Fuck you,” he sneered. “You arrogant piece of shit. You made me feel like a damned whore, and I still came here like an idiot pouring my heart out to you. Carry your ass back to America, and go kick rocks.”

  
He stormed out, and angrily swatted the figurine he’d been looking at earlier to the floor as he left. I sat for a few seconds staring at the door and told myself this was for the best. I had to leave him alone. Besides, I was leaving very soon. I reached for the phone.

  
“Luna…is he gone yet?”

  
“He’s walking out the lobby, sir.”

  
I decided I had made the right decision. Then I made another.   
  
“Whatever you do, Luna, don’t let him leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait. I am overwhelmed and humbled by the response I've received. Thank you so much.


	6. Chapter 5: Decisions Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 is almost at an end. Did I mention there were 3 parts?

Oliver POV

I told myself I just wanted to talk to Elio. To square things away so we didn’t part in a bad way. That’s all. I swear it was. I just needed a chance to explain myself. I hope I wasn’t too late. Please don’t let me be too late. I reached the lobby and he had just slid past Luna. She couldn’t stop him but she bought me enough time. He was out the double doors and was just on the pavement when I caught up. He looked back for a second but kept moving. This was one of the times I was thankful for having long legs; it only took a few paces to catch him.

“Elio… wait, don’t go yet.” I grabbed his arm. As I expected he snatched it back angrily. Or at least tried. “I’m sorry. Don’t go ...”

“You’re sorry” he huffed. “What have you done that you’re sorry for?”

“Let me explain.”

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

I didn’t let go, but I loosened my grip. Just enough to make him relax. Just enough to grip again in case he thought of walking off on me. He struggled again, and we were starting to get attention, now. A guard from the adjacent building walked over.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Zelinger?” he asked, eyeing Elio. He had stopped struggling but the look he was giving me showed me his mood hadn’t improved just because he was no longer fighting me.

I turned to the guard. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I promise. Thanks. You can go now.”

I gave him my most pleasant smile, and that seemed to work. The guard started to walk off but looked back every few seconds to see if he was going to be needed. I finally let go of Elio and was grateful to see he hadn’t tried to move.

“Do you own the whole damned street, or what?”

“Just this one building” I said. He didn’t seem amused. “Look, Elio. I really am sorry. Please don’t leave yet.”

“I’m stupid. I’m so fucking stupid,” he shook his head in disbelief. “For coming out all this way. Just because I wanted to see you again. Because I wanted….”

“Do you know how happy I am to see you?”  
“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I know. And I’m ashamed I acted that way.” I pulled him close cupping his chin in my hands, tilting his face up to look at me. “Give me a chance to make it up to you…”

I couldn’t believe this was happening, how much he was getting to me. And I couldn’t shake this feeling. Of how he was getting to me so quickly. It was catching me like a web of long thin tendrils that wrap around softly and gently at first. But if I wasn’t careful, they would stick and tighten and before I knew it I would be caught.

“Why?” he spat. He was upset and it was all my doing. “Do you want to humiliate me some more?”

“No, no. Never again.” I soothed. His thin fingers were gripping my arms as I held his face.

“You think you can have everything your way, don’t you?”

“No. At least not yet. I’m working on it.”

“Asshole. I knew you couldn’t stay humble for too long,” he smirked.

I let him go, then, confident finally that he was staying. I don’t know if it was the way I was feeling. Or maybe it was his pretty green eyes, but I suddenly had an idea.

“Look, you came out all this way. Let me at least make it worth your while.”

“You don’t have to, Oliver. I said what I wanted to say.”

“Well, I haven’t. And besides, I’m leaving tomorrow. I won’t get another chance to.”

“I don’t know,” he hesitated. “I didn’t plan on being gone all day.”

“If you’re worried about getting back in time, it won’t take long. I promise.”

“Don’t you have…I don’t know…work?”

“Always. Will you come?”

I used my most hopeful voice, but I knew the answer would be yes. It always was.

_____________

Pleasing Elio wasn’t the only reason I wanted to make this trip. I had some minor business I needed to wrap up, and it turns out this was the perfect way to do both. I left his car keys with my driver and promised it would be in safe hands when he got back. I noted the time wasn’t quite ten yet; it would take a good 40 minutes by boat and on foot to get there.

On the boat ride to our destination, I concentrated on his lovely profile, trying to ignore the fact that he was sitting as far as he could away from me. He stole wary glances my way every so often. What effort would it take to get him on my lap? To get those long legs straddled around my waist?

“What is it you want to show me?” he offered.

“It’s a surprise but one I’m sure you’ll appreciate. You don’t have to sit so far away”

“I don’t trust myself. what might happen if I did,”

“You have my word, Elio. Nothing will happen that you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“And wasn’t it the truth? The other night did anything happen that you didn’t want?”

I saw the blush rising to his face; the faint smile on his lips. It wasn’t something I had planned on but I found myself wondering how much effort it would take to get him in my bed again. When we finally arrived the look on his face told me it might be more difficult than we thought. The place was a penthouse I owned and planned to put on the block once my divorce was final.

“Where are we?” he asked warily.

“We’re at my place. Well… mine for the time being, that is.”

Elio stared at me blankly, folding his arms. “You’re not fucking me again, if that’s what this is.”

“It’s not what you think. I promise. Nothing sexual.”

“Yeah really. At your place?”

“Come on up,” I said. “Let me give you the tour,”

He shook his head, his arms still folded. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust myself. I mean….your place….my wife doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Say yes just this once. I promise you nothing is going to happen that you can’t tell her later on.” In truth I didn’t know if I could hold on to that promise, but for him I would at least try to behave myself. I held out my hand to him, and reluctantly, he finally agreed.

* * *

(Elio POV)

I don’t even know why I was resisting. The token resistance I was putting up was a front. If we both had it our way, we’d be naked in his bed with my legs twisted around him. Giving in to persuasion was a bad idea. Nothing had happened yet, and Oliver promised nothing would, but I couldn’t help feeling I was sneaking around. I had no excuse or reason to see him again, except for the fact that I wanted to. And I wasn’t disappointed, at least with the view.

“Let me show you around,” he said.

The place was beautiful with a huge foyer that led to a large sitting room. The furniture was fancier than it had been at his villa in Liguria and didn’t look nearly as comfortable. As nice as it was, something was a bit off. Not that I knew Oliver well enough to assume, but the place just didn’t seem like something he would have chosen on his own.

The apartment was three bedrooms and four bathrooms. The main bathroom was decorated in a gold mosaic tile that was brilliant, but not gaudy. The master bedroom was also large and stunning with a large dressing room beside it. The dining room was small and formal. A little ways down, a well-equipped kitchen and service room was in the back and someone was already in there making meal preparations.

“Family place?” I asked.

“It wasn’t my idea. Dina fell in love with the place when we came here a few years ago. I’m trying to decide if I want to sell it or include it in the settlement. Would you like a drink?” he asked, attempting to change the subject. He led us back to the living room area and headed for the bar. A really nice looking one with Chippedale fretwood and inlaid glass.

“You said you wanted to talk,” I said, trying (and failing) to sound impressed with the place.

“You’re right, I do. Have seat.” I took a seat on the couch and he brought over two martinis, and I noticed he was also holding a package under his arm.

“I thought it would be a long shot, but it actually came on time,” he said excitedly. He sat beside me and handed me the package.

“What is it?” I asked, gesturing to the package, trying to keep my voice even.

“Open it,”

I gingerly opened the package; almost afraid I might ruin it. When I finally got it open, I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. It was a book…a manuscript. An autographed draft of Liszt’s ‘Gaudeamus Igitur’ orchestral score.

“Where did you get this?” I tried not to squeal.

“On a whim bought it at Christies a couple of years ago. It was in the back of my mind to auction it off again, but I decided to sit on it. I think it would be in better hands with you.”

I looked at him dumb. I couldn’t think straight. “Oliver…this is too much.”

“I want you to keep this,” he said. “When you compose your own music, I thought it might help to have a bit of inspiration.”

“Are you sure……”

“It’s nothing. I want to you to have it. No strings. All I’m going to do with it is sell it for money I don’t need.”

“And you don’t want anything for this?”

“Of course I do. The problem is you’re not mine to have. Not really.”

I hated this suddenly, because I knew the choice I was going to make. “You know I can’t. I want to…..but it’s not right. Not now.”

“And that’s ok. You deserve the time to figure out what you want. After a time you may find it has nothing to do with me.”

“You think I won’t want you?”

“You might want your own home. Your own family. I can’t deny you that opportunity.”

Was it really that simple? I’d made a commitment to another person. Who was I to throw my vow away over one night no matter how good it was? Oliver seemed to guess how he was thinking.

“I understand.” Oliver said. His tone was disappointed, and resigned like he expected me to say no. “We didn’t have a beginning, or middle, really.”

“But it was real for me. It meant something to me. Did it for you?”

“All I can say is this. Having what you want can carry a high price. What I paid for a night with you, I would have spent ten times that much. “I was speechless. Oliver continued. “But if you were actually mine, I wouldn’t let anyone have you at any price.”

I had no words for what he’d just heard. Oliver touched my face, and I was caught in the blue of his gaze. Before I knew it our lips touched again. Oliver kept the kiss sweet, his mouth pressing gently but firmly. I sighed, moving closer to deepen the kiss. After a long while Oliver finally let go.

“I don’t want to say something cliché like if you let someone go and they come back that means they’re yours, and all idiocy,” he said. “But I do have a hope one day will be the right time.”

I hugged the manuscript to my chest gratefully. “Thank you,” he said.

Oliver took my face in his hands and kissed me softly. “Hold on. I’ll get you a boat to your car.”

I tugged my precious package to me, my legs heavy and leaden at first, and it was hard to walk away but it got easier the further I got and when I made it outside the building where a boat offered to take me back to my car.

* * *

It was still early when I made it back, so I stopped by to get a bottle of red wine on the way and swung by the opera house to get a few rounds of practice in for our upcoming concert.

When I got home, Marzia had made it back and she was just starting to prepare dinner. She smiled at me when she noticed the wine but he could tell something was on her mind. I put the wine in the fridge and joined her. We finished preparing dinner; a lovely meal of steak and dauphinoise and sat down to eat. At first it was pleasant but Marzia was fidgeting the whole way through like she wanted to say something. I decided to wait until we cleared dinner away, and cleaned up to ask.

“You look like you want to tell me something.”

“It’s just. I want to tell you that I’m sorry. For behaving like I did the past few days. I promised you I would be ok about you being with Oliver, but I wasn’t. I took everything out on you, and I was wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to forgive. We don’t have to think about it anymore.”

She smiled, taking my hand. “Let’s think of the future. I have an idea of what we should do with the money. That is, if you agree,” she said quickly. “I don’t want it to be my decision alone.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I think we should give half of it to both our parents. I know your father took a big hit when he got sick suddenly. This could help them replace what they lost.”

“That’s a good idea,” I sensed she wanted to say more.

“And… we can’t keep renting. Especially if we want a family sometime soon…….”

I smiled at the thought but I was still conflicted. A family. Oliver mentioned that earlier. Did I want a family with Marzia? We’d talked about it before we got married. I was game for it then, why should I hesitate now? Marzia’s voice jolted me from my thoughts.

“Come to bed soon,” she said hopefully before leaving.

I sat at the table for a good while longer before joining her in bed finally and this time she didn’t shrink away from me. For a brief moment, our lovemaking made me think there may be hope for us. But as our passion intensified, I couldn’t help wish it was Oliver I was making love with instead. I thought of what it would be like to have him underneath me and bring him the same pleasure he had shown me. The memory of his hands, his scent drove me wild, and when I finally came, it took all my will not to shout Oliver’s name.

Is this life what I wanted? Or was I going along because it was what she wanted. I did love Marzia. That was real. My parents told me how they wanted to be grandparents one day. No children meant my line would end with me. Could I really deny them that? And could I at the cost of denying myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the feed back on this. This chapter was hard as heck to write, but I finally have the lead in to Part 2 in form.


	7. Amelie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of Part 1.,,,

Elio POV

May (late spring) - Friday

Marzia graduated in the top five percent of her class. I was so proud for her, and I hadn’t seen her so happy in a long time. Our fortunes were turning around. Marzia was offered a job right away at Ospedale Guistinianeo, one of the best hospitals in Padua. The opera house reopened, and work started to pick up for me. Performance were still sporadic and slow, though. We had even started casually looking around at houses. Both our families had made the trip out to Padua for Marzia’s graduation. We’d spent a couple of nights in Padua with Marzia’s parents before we headed over to Crema for the weekend.

Mafalda had cooked stuffed peppers and she made one of my favorites; a berry semifreddo for dessert. Afterwards, while our parents talked, we went out with friends from secondary school and hit some of our old hangouts and caught up with each other. It was one of the best nights of our lives.

Which was why the events that happened afterwards were so unexpected. Saturday morning when we came down for breakfast Bambi and Nico were already at the table deep into a heated argument with papa. Papa was at the end of the table pretending to be more concerned with eating than he was with the conversation. Mama was the kitchen helping Mafalda clean up and start preparing lunch.

“And here they are, finally,” Nico said. “Ah…Elio. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Bambi placed a hand on my arm. “It’s nothing, truly. You just need to convince your papa he’s not well enough to travel right now.”

Papa looked over at me and held his hand up when I started to question. “Annella and I have already talked about this. I’ve been invited to conduct a series of lectures on the origins of Attic and Ionic language at NYU.”

Dad had been talking about going back to work again on a limited basis, and he seemed excited. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No it’s not!” Bambi cut in “Is it wise to be away a whole month in your condition?”

“My mind is already made up,” Papa said in that patient voice he always took when he was actually annoyed underneath. “Working is the best way for me to recover.”

“Is mama going with you?”

“Actually, son, I was hoping you would,” he said. “Your mother says she wants to stay behind until the repairs on the house are complete.”

“Its kind of short notice. Papa, are you sure you’re up to it?”

“It’s only for six weeks. And it would make me happy if you go with me.” He turned to Marzia. “I’m sorry to spring this on you two so suddenly. I know this is a busy time for you both.”

I wasn’t too sure about the idea, but he looked so happy about the idea, even if he was being selfish about it. I was about to say no before Marzia spoke up.

“Let us think about it,” Marzia said. “We can let you know before the weekend is over.”

“Let’s hope you both forget the whole thing,” Nico said. Thankfully nobody said anything else about it for the rest of breakfast. Right now really wasn’t a good time with how messed up my marriage was. There wasn’t that much time to make up my mind.

Later on, to clear my head, I went downstairs to the piano and started to concentrate on Liszt’s La Campanella for a performance coming up in a couple of months. In case anyone didn’t want to hear what I was playing, my fingers only touched lightly across the keys, and I played silently. I was deep in concentration when Marzia walked into the living room to sit by me.

“Keep playing. Don’t let me disturb you.”

“It’s ok. I’d rather talk to you instead. Papa is going to want to know if I’m going or not.”

She looked at me for a long moment before she spoke, like she was thinking about what to say. “Elio. I know we’ve been talking a lot about the future,” Marzia said.

“Things have been going good.” I said slowly. I suspected it would be hard to hear what she had to say.

“Have they?” she said. Now I knew it would be hard. “Are you going to New York with your father?”

“I think so,” I said. “It’s only for a few weeks.”

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Elio.”

I looked over at Marzia and she was looking down at the piano keys.

“You think it’s a good idea, too,” I guessed.

“I think….we should separate…..just for a while.”

“I thought we were working things out.”

“I did too,” she said slowly “….that is until I found Liszt’s manuscript in the piano drawer…and Oliver’s card.” I should have been more careful. I didn’t think to hide it better since I was transcribing it on a daily basis. A guilt I hadn’t felt in weeks crept back in, and I couldn’t deny what she knew. “He gave it to you, didn’t he?”

“I went to see him the day he left for the states. I don’t know why, I just--“

“It’s ok. You don’t have to explain anything. And I’m not mad, really,” she said matter of factly.

“Nothing happened. We just talked.”

“I believe you. But you couldn’t stay away regardless.”

“I don’t know how I feel about him.”

“But you like him. You feel an attraction to him.”

“Yes…I do.” I turned to her and took her in my arms. “Marzia. I love you. More than anything. You have to know that.”

“I know,” she said, holding me back. “But what do you actually ‘want’, Elio?”

“I don’t know. But if we’re going to have any kind of future, I at least owe us an answer to that.” Marzia pressed closer to me and I held her tighter as if I feared losing her, which I did.

“Do you hate me for suggesting this?”

“No. I can’t hate you for anything,” My voice was breaking, now. I felt so much for her, and I hated it that it wasn’t enough anymore. That this separation, this arrangement might actually be the right thing.

“Play ‘Computine d’un autre ete’ for me,” she asked. The theme from ‘Amelie’ was her favorite.

I played for her, well into the evening and there wasn’t any need to think about it any further. I felt a bit of a weight lift off me. We no longer had to pretend, and that was freeing. There was one last order of business I definitely had to take care of before I turned in for the night.

I thumbed through the top shelf of the closet of my old room and felt around until I found the small box. It was still there. I opened it, lifted the Star of David necklace my parents had given me when I was fifteen, and put it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say I'm not as happy with this last part. I'm anxious to get into Part 2 and get the boys back where they belong.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think of the rewrite. Suggestions (critical ones also) are welcome as I want to continue to improve.


End file.
